


Growing Pains

by UMdancer98



Category: Batman (1966), Batman (Comics), Batman and Robin (Comics), Batman: The Animated Series
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Joker likes to play games, Robin is a rookie, There's a first time for everything, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2019-08-02 11:11:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 36,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16304072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UMdancer98/pseuds/UMdancer98
Summary: Robin’s first week as a crime-fighter doesn’t exactly go according to plan.  Then again, nothing ever does when the Clown Prince of Crime is involved.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For purposes of this story, the Batmobile is a convertible. :)
> 
> Batman and Robin are loosely based off the 1960s TV show but go back and forth between genres and are sometimes completely out of any characterization. I write it the way it enters my head, which is not always "historically" accurate. Italics usually represent thoughts to oneself but are sometimes used to add emphasis. Thanks for reading!

**Chapter 1:**    

            Batman was standing by the Giant Lighted Lucite Map of Gotham City, drawing small red circles in several different areas.

            “What’s the pattern?” he murmured quietly to himself.

            “How do I look?”

            An enthusiastic young voice rebounded off the walls of the Batcave, startling the man out of his thoughts.

            Frowning at the interruption, Batman turned toward the boisterous sound coming from the direction of the Batpoles.  He had to smile, though, when he saw his thirteen-year-old ward.  The grinning boy was standing tall and proud – legs apart, hands clenched on his hips, chest puffed out, chin held high and excitement flashing around in his blue eyes.

            “You look like a crime-fighter, Robin,” Batman replied without hesitation.  The Robin-suit was perfect for the boy – sufficiently colorful to match his energetic personality but not enough to make him stand out as a bright target in the dark.  Except for the cape.  The shiny golden material might be a bit too much.  That would be something to work on later, though.

            “Are you ready for your first night on the job?” he asked.

            Robin’s grin was enormous as he replied, “Yes, let’s go!  What bad guy are we going to take out tonight?”

            Batman shook his head in amusement at the somewhat ridiculous inquiry.

            “I don’t know yet because we haven’t answered the Bat-signal.”  Chalking it up to over-excitement, he decided to let it go. 

            Robin quickly recognized the idiocy of that question and mentally rolled his eyes at himself.  _What a great way to start my crime-fighting career._

            “Commissioner Gordon is waiting,” Batman continued.  “To the Batmobile, Robin!”

            Robin raced to the passenger side and, seeing that the roof of the car was open, jumped over the door.  He buckled his safety Bat-belt as swiftly as possible and waited impatiently for Batman, who seemed to be traveling at the rate of a snail.  The man finally opened his door, climbed in and the Batmobile roared to life.

            Robin carefully checked the gauges, his first important job.  “Atomic batteries to power!  Turbines to speed!” he shouted excitedly when he saw the readings.   

            Batman glanced over; Robin’s excitement was contagious but Batman was, at the same time, slightly worried.  Was this really a good idea?  Should he be allowing a boy, barely a teenager, to fight alongside him against Gotham City’s criminals?  He had been training Robin for a little over a year and his ward caught on quickly.  The young acrobat was already extremely athletic.  All Batman had done was add several different fighting techniques that could easily be combined with Robin’s speed and agility. 

            Robin was physically ready, there was no doubt in Batman’s mind about that, but he wasn’t emotionally or mentally tough yet.  Batman would have to be careful about who he allowed Robin to fight, which is why he had made a rather lengthy list of “not yet” villains.  They were the biggest threats to the safety of the young and inexperienced crime-fighter: Joker, Riddler, Penguin, Mr. Freeze, Two-Face….  The list filled nearly an entire page and Robin had been a little disappointed when he had seen it.  Actually, Batman reflected, a _lot_ disappointed.

* * *

**Four days ago:**

            “Are you serious?!” Robin exclaimed when Batman held up a piece of paper.  They were in the Batcave and Batman was using Bat-tape to attach the document to the top of the table that was in front of the Well-Known Criminals File.  Robin was frowning at the older hero in consternation, his young mind not fully comprehending the reasoning behind Batman’s newest list.

            “Yes,” Batman replied in his strictest voice.  “This is not optional.  If you want to fight crime with me, you need to follow my instructions, _especially_ ones that I give you to keep you safe.”

            “But,” Robin began, “those are all the _real_ villains…”

            Batman quickly interrupted, “Every criminal is _real_ , Robin, and you need to remember that.  This list is for your own good.”

            “You created a list of villains titled ‘Not Yet Villains’ for my own good?” Robin exclaimed again.  “I’m ready, you’ve said it yourself!”

            “Ready, yes,” Batman replied calmly, folding his arms across his chest.  “Experience is what you are lacking and I will not allow you to take on the most dangerous villains until you have enough experience to know how to react to most situations.”

            “But how am I supposed to get experience if I can’t fight anyone?” Robin practically shouted and immediately regretted the tone.

            “I never said you wouldn’t be able to fight,” Batman sighed with frustration sliding around the edges of the words.  “You are a crime- _fighter_ so of course you will be fighting crime.  Just not…that kind of crime.”  He paused for a long moment.  “Please, Robin, just trust me,” he lowered his voice.  “Can you do that, can you trust me?”

            “Fine,” the boy muttered, dropping his eyes to the ground.  “Of course I trust you,” he nodded and sighed in defeat.

* * *

**Present time:**

            Batman shook his head at the memory but knew he was in the right.  He hoped the Bat-signal was for something that his new partner could help with: a small-time gang or a mugging in a dark alley or a warehouse full of idiots who thought they could be called villains because they had stolen something.  Robin would be really upset if he had to return to the Batcave without fighting a bad guy or saving an innocent person.

            “Come _on_ , Batman, let’s go!” Robin was surprisingly demanding and Batman was startled out of his thoughts again.

            “Okay,” Batman chuckled, “roger, ready to move out.”  The Batmobile zoomed out of the Batcave and they were on their way to Police Headquarters.

* * *

            Robin was practically bouncing in his seat.  He was going on his first mission, finally!  He had been working so hard for this moment and couldn’t wait to take on his first bad guy.  Who was it going to be?  The one man he _didn’t_ want to meet yet was Joker.  He had heard stories about that crazy villain from not only Batman but also from other kids at school.  One of his friend’s cousins had even been kidnapped by Joker!  Robin shuddered at the thought of being held hostage by a psycho who dressed up like a clown, although a clown was nicer to look at than a man with two different faces.  

            Riddler had always sounded fun to him.  Robin had a knack for solving the villain’s riddles and had been helping Batman with them since discovering the Batcave.  Penguin would be the easiest of all of them; he couldn’t even run away!  Robin suddenly hoped it was Penguin so that his first job wouldn’t be too difficult.  Even though he was excited, there was a little tingle of nervousness fluttering around in his stomach and he knew that taking down a slightly less intimidating criminal would calm his nerves.  He grinned as he pictured himself standing over a Bat-cuffed Penguin.  This was going to be so much fun!  Then he frowned – Penguin was a “not yet” villain.  Shrugging, he grinned again.  He was about to become an official crime-fighter, even if the person he took down was just a purse-snatcher.

* * *

**Three hours later:**

            “That was so awesome!” Robin exclaimed as they returned to the Batcave and got out of the Batmobile.  “Did you see me take out that guy that was trying to escape?  SWOOSH, KA-POW!”  He punched the air in front of him with his right hand and followed it with his left, emphasizing the last two words.

            Batman shook his head and attempted to contain his laughter.  “That guy” had been a slightly-older-than-Robin teenager who obviously had absolutely no fighting experience. 

            “You’ve got a bloody cut above your eye, Robin,” Batman stated, a nearly undetectable chuckle flowing through the words.  “Let’s go take care of it before Alfred finds out.”

            “Before I find out what, sir?” Alfred asked as he rounded the corner of the tunnel that led to the service elevator.  The slight smile on his face turned into a frown when he saw the thin line of blood just above Robin’s right eyebrow.

            “Alfred!” Robin cried exuberantly.  “I just arrested my first, second and third criminals!” 

            “Well done, Master Robin,” the butler praised with another smile. He glanced over at Batman and, upon seeing the mirth in the man’s expression, did his best to remain composed.

            “Now, please come over here so I can clean you up,” he added, directing Robin to the medical area with a sweep of his left arm.

            “Whom, may I ask, were your challengers?” Alfred inquired, attempting to distract the boy from the slight stinging sensation that would accompany the cleaning of his wound.

            Robin paused thoughtfully then glanced at Batman with a questioning look.  Batman, who had just removed his cowl, raised his eyebrows.  Robin needed to know the criminals of Gotham City and Alfred had unknowingly given the boy his first mental test.

            “Um, there weren’t very many of them and…” Robin scrunched up his face in concentration, “…I know they didn’t belong to any of the _major_ villains.”

            “Please relax your face, Master Robin, so I can apply the bandage correctly,” Alfred stated.  The boy attempted to obey but Batman was staring at him and expecting an answer.  Alfred quietly sighed and resigned himself to waiting for the conversation to end.  The blood had stopped, the bandage could wait.

            Batman studied his young partner’s face, a little annoyed that Robin had to think this hard about the characteristics of the men they had fought.  They were obviously from Big Johnny’s mob; Robin should have this memorized.

            Robin now had his eyes closed and was becoming frustrated.  _Batman’s going to kill me!  I’m supposed to know this, I DO know this!_

            “Robin,” Batman frowned, “who were those men?  You _have_ been studying the Bat-book of Criminals, right?”

            “Yes!” Robin’s eyes flew open.  Batman was going to get mad at him because he couldn’t remember anything about that particular mob.  He didn’t even remember which mob it was!

            “So,” Batman continued as he folded his arms across his chest, “who were they?”

            “Uh, they were from a mob…?” Robin replied timidly.  Batman was now glaring at him and the man was intimidating even without his cowl.

            “Are you _asking_ me?” Batman’s voice was rising and Robin was startled at the tone.

            Robin dropped his head miserably.  He was in _big_ trouble now.  Batman had never used that voice with him.

            Alfred saw the boy’s expression, the man’s posture and the possible outcome of the situation.  He made a decision and stepped in to stop it before Batman went too far.

            “Try to remember, Master Batman,” he said calmly, “that enthusiastic young boys are often only able to focus on one thing at a time.  Perhaps Master Robin will be better prepared for this question after the excitement of capturing his first criminal has worn off a little bit.”

            Batman looked over at Alfred and opened his mouth to disagree but shut it again when his faithful butler gave him a warning look.  He sighed, of course Alfred was right.  Robin had just done something that, to Batman, was routine and the Caped Crusader suddenly remembered the first time _he_ had handed a criminal over to the police.  He decided to give the boy a break, but only this time.  Robin was going to be studying that book for several hours tomorrow.

            Robin had cautiously lifted his head and was staring at Batman, his eyes hopeful but nervous.  _Give me a break, please, come on, give me another chance._

            “Get changed and go to bed, Robin,” Batman commanded.  “You will be reading the entire Bat-book of Criminals tomorrow and taking an oral test when you are done.  These are things you _have_ to know.  They could mean the difference between life and death.”

            Robin exhaled in relief.  “Thanks, Batman!  I won’t let you down; I’ll memorize the whole thing!”  He ran to the Batpoles and pushed the “Robin” button on the Compressed Steam Batpole Lift, shooting himself back up to the study of Bruce Wayne. 

            Batman rolled his eyes in amusement when he heard his ward sliding right back down.  The boy really _was_ too excited to remember the little things.  Robin had obviously forgotten to flip the Instant Costume Change lever on his way up.  Exiting the study in Wayne Manor as Robin would certainly cause a lot of questions.

            Glancing at Batman when he reached the bottom, Robin gave a sheepish grin and shot himself back up.  This time he remembered to flip the lever, becoming Dick Grayson before leaving Bruce Wayne’s study. 

            Batman gave Alfred a tiny glare and stated, “I shouldn’t have let him off the hook like that.  He _has_ to know…” he stopped when he saw Alfred’s version of the Bat-glare.

            “Master Batman,” the faithful butler replied firmly, “he is thirteen, he just had one of the most exciting nights of his young life and you were about to get mad at him for it.  Everyone needs to be ‘let off the hook’ once in a while.  I seem to remember doing it for you several times when you were younger.”

            Batman’s glare turned into a smile.  “You’re right, Alfred.  I can’t expect him to notice details right away.  It _was_ only his first night.”

            Alfred nodded, “That is an excellent observation, sir.  Is there anything I can do for you before I return to the Manor?”

            Batman was sitting down in front of the Bat-computer now and he shook his head.  “I’m just going to finish some work that I neglected earlier.  Thank you, Alfred.”

            “Good night then, Master Batman,” Alfred turned around and walked toward the elevator.  He paused for a moment then looked back at Batman, “I suggest you get some sleep, sir.  I know a young man who is going to want a lot of your attention tomorrow, even if he is supposed to be studying.”

            Smiling, the butler went into the elevator and returned to the Manor.  The small bandage that was supposed to already be above Robin’s right eye was still in Alfred’s hand and, sighing in relief at the prevention of the imminent storm, he went in search of the brow of Dick Grayson.

            Batman chuckled as he began typing on the Bat-computer.  Alfred was right again.  Robin was going to want to go over every tiny detail of the _fight_ because that was the exciting part for him.  Batman would still make sure he memorized that book, though.


	2. Chapter 2

** Chapter 2: **

**The next day:**

            A short man with curly brown hair and mud-colored eyes nervously opened the front door of an extravagant mansion.  Turning left, he trudged reluctantly down the long white hall that led to a heavy silver door, this one with the initials BJ stenciled in gold on the solid metal.  Taking a deep breath to try to gather his courage, the man turned the handle and peeked inside. 

            “Get in here!” Big Johnny roared when he noticed his lead henchman standing in the doorway.  He was sprawled across his throne-like leather chair, his layers of fat rolling over each other.  The man, Ronny, raced inside and scurried up the three steps leading to his boss.    

            “What happened out there?!” Big Johnny thundered as he glared ferociously at the man.  His dark-blue eyes flashed dangerously as he continued, “There were seven of you and one of him!  This should have been easy!” 

            Ronny was trying and failing to hold his ground, trembling at the anger directed at him.  He backed away from his boss, misjudged the height of the step below him and stumbled back, nearly falling over.  Catching himself and now standing at the bottom of the steps, he dropped his eyes to the ground.

            “Two of them, sir, there were two of them,” Ronny mumbled, fear flirting with the shame in his tone.  The odds had been in their favor and still they had lost, badly. 

            The mob boss was taken aback and his eyes widened.  “Two Batmans?”

            “Well,” Ronny continued, “I mean, one Batman and…I guess you could call the smaller one a sidekick?”

            “Batman has a _sidekick_?!” Big Johnny shouted in disbelief.  Batman had always worked alone.  He didn’t need anyone’s help so why did he have a sidekick now?

            “Yes, sir,” Ronny replied, lifting his eyes to look at his boss.  The change in Big Johnny’s tone gave the henchman a sliver of confidence.  “The kid was small, I doubt he was even a teenager.  He was pretty good at fighting, though.  He took out JT and Paul then chased down Ryder.”

            “Ryder,” the boss snorted.  “My pinky finger could take out Ryder!”

            Big Johnny pictured the three henchmen in his mind.  Ryder – the fourteen-year-old rookie who had only gone to gain experience, Paul – the seasoned veteran with a boxing background and JT – a large goon with fists the size of small basketballs. 

            “Getting the drop on JT is pretty impressive,” the mobster admitted.  “It’s brave but stupid to take on Paul after that, though.”

            “Well, the boy was fast and you know how both JT and Paul fight,” Ronny said, trying to find some way to excuse the failure.

            “JT is powerful and easily angered.  Paul is steady and calculating.  I hired them, remember?” the boss retorted.  “Those qualities can usually beat speed, though.  What, specifically, did the kid do to take them down?”

            “Uh, I only saw what happened to JT, boss,” Ronny replied.  “After that I was occupied with, um, something else.”

            Big Johnny knew what that meant and he rolled his eyes.  The sidekick had taken care of three and Batman had finished the other four.

            “At first there was only Batman; we didn’t even see the kid,” Ronny continued.  “So, we all went after Batman.  He’s powerful but it was seven to one.  We had him dead to rights!  Suddenly there was a small blur racing from the darkness on our other side, right toward JT.  It only took three moves, boss!” Ronny exclaimed.  “First, he tackled JT at the knees, knocking them both to the ground.  The kid popped right back up, though.  He was like a little flash of lightening!  Then, while JT was attempting to get his large body off the ground, the kid jumped straight up in the air and shoved both feet into the back of JT’s head.  I thought the boy was going to fall flat on his face but he tucked his legs in and rolled out of the kick.   It looked effortless, like he’d done it a million times!  JT was the one flat on his face and the kid immediately dropped into a crouch and chopped his hand down on the back of JT’s neck, knocking him out completely.”

            The mob boss sighed as he listened to the story.  Three moves to take out one of his strongest men!

            “Please tell me that nobody was arrested,” he grumbled.  “And please tell me that _somebody_ got some hits on Batman and his sidekick!”

            Ronny sighed and shook his head.  “They got everyone except me,” he replied sadly.  “And that’s only because Batman was double-checking the kid’s knots.  I wasn’t knocked out but I played dead, sir.  I don’t think they even noticed that I was gone.  But,” he grinned slightly, “the boy’s face was a little bloody.  Paul probably got some good punches in before going down.”

            Big Johnny shook his head then paused, deep in thought.  “You actually brought me some useful information,” the man stated.  His tone, although slightly favorable, was filled with scorn.  “I have the beginnings of an idea.  Get out of here and tell Jake to see me in an hour,” he commanded.

            “Okay, boss, sure thing,” Ronny was relieved and raced away to find Jake, slamming the door closed behind him.

            “A sidekick, Batman?” Big Johnny pondered the possible reasons that the hero could have for bringing a kid with him.  “That’s an interesting decision.  How far are you willing to go to protect him?”  His musings were interrupted by a knock on his door.

            “What!” he yelled, his eyes narrowing at the intrusion.

            “It’s Jake, sir.  Ronny sent me?” a deep voice rumbled through the closed door.  “JT is here with me.  He escaped from the holding cells at Police Headquarters early this morning.”

            Big Johnny sighed.  What part of “an hour” did Ronny not understand?  The man should be demoted but he couldn’t really do that to his own son.  It was fortunate that JT had escaped, though.    

            “JT, get in here.  Jake, come back in an hour,” the mob boss shouted and heard heavy footsteps fading away as the large door was shoved open.  A dark-haired, muscular man walked into the room, limping slightly. 

            “Please explain to me how you allowed a _sidekick_ to get the drop on you!” Big Johnny’s voice steadily rose until he was yelling at the end of the sentence.

            JT growled as he walked toward his boss.  “He surprised me, sir.  We were _all_ focused on Batman.  I don’t know why the little brat chose me,” he snarled.

            “Are you getting soft on me, JT?” Big Johnny inquired dangerously.  “He’s a _kid_!  You should have been able to knock his block off with one good hit!”

            “He was quick, boss.  He was fighting again before I even had time to get up.”  JT put a hand to the back of his head.  “He’s got some strong legs, too.  I have a headache the size…”

            The big man was suddenly interrupted by his boss.  “I don’t care about your headache, idiot, and his quickness is just an excuse for your failure!” Big Johnny shouted, fury clearly evident in his tone.  “Get out of my sight,” he growled.

            JT spun around and strode angrily out the door, malice flashing in his eyes.  Batman’s sidekick now had a target on his little back, one that was just the right size for JT’s fist.

            Big Johnny scowled as he watched his man march toward the door.  Then he grinned as a plan began to form in his mind, coming together like pieces of a puzzle.  There were three villains that owed him favors.  Which one should he choose?

* * *

            “Joker, Riddler, Catwoman and Two-Face, in that order,” Robin recited and Batman checked a box on the paper he was holding.

            “Name the three biggest mobs and their respective bosses, beginning with the most dangerous,” Batman said.  He was impressed with Robin’s memory so far but this was the hardest part.  Many of the mobs reacted to different situations in similar fashions and could be difficult to tell apart.

            Robin panicked a little then took a deep breath and sorted things around in his brain.  He had been expecting to go in order of size, not level of danger, but he could do this. 

            Batman raised his eyebrows, a hint of disapproval swimming in his eyes.  It had already been ten seconds and Robin was still quiet.  He began shaking his head and raised his pen to his clipboard but stopped to listen when his young partner began speaking.

            “Okay, Big Johnny is the most dangerous because of all the connections he has with villains who are constantly in and out of Arkham.  Uh, his mob is called ‘Big Johnny’s’ which is kind of silly because…” Robin trailed off when he realized that he was about to ramble.

            Refocusing himself, the boy continued, “Next is the group known simply as ‘Break’ and their boss is Lucas Mantron.  They are almost as dangerous as Big Johnny because they have enough money to make contracts with whatever villain is available.  They know Big Johnny has first pick, though.  Therefore, he ranks higher.”

            Robin was proud of himself so far but was a little unsure about the last one because there were two that were almost identical.  Should he make it a tie; was this a trick question?

            Batman was pleased; his protégé was doing well.  But the third one was the hardest and he didn’t think Robin would be able to tell the difference between the two.

            Robin’s eyes were closed and he was attempting to re-read the three paragraphs that each of the two mobs were given in the Bat-book of Criminals.  He couldn’t fail; he might not be allowed to go out again!  He made a decision, then changed it, then went back to his first choice and shook his head in frustration.  Batman softly sighed in disappointment and Robin knew he needed to give an answer – _now_.

            His eyes popped open and he tried to sound confident, “The third one is, um, Marco Lancini’s mob, ‘Ocram’.  It could also be Randy’s mob, ‘Turino’, but I chose the former because they get rid of people in many different ways.  That is more intimidating because, if you are captured, you have a lot of scenarios to think about while they are deciding how to kill you.  Therefore, Ocram is more dangerous.”

            Closing his eyes again, Robin waited for the sound of Batman’s pen.  Two short sounds meant a checkmark and he would pass.  More than that, however, meant that he had chosen the wrong mob and would probably have to do this again tomorrow. 

            Batman stared at Robin in amazement.  Not only had the boy chosen the correct mob, but he had also given an excellent description of his conclusions and named the other group!  He realized that Robin was standing stock still with his fists clenched and his eyes squeezed shut.  Batman shook himself out of his stupor; the poor kid was waiting for the sound of his pen and not knowing was killing him.  He quickly made a checkmark and heard a sigh of relief.

            Robin finally heard the pen – two short sounds – and sighed, relieved that he had made the right decision.  He opened his eyes and was surprised to see Batman’s eyes wide in astonishment.  Grinning, Robin raced to his Batpole and shot himself up to the Manor in order to find Alfred and tell him the good news.

            The Caped Crusader shook his head; Alfred had been right.  His partner had been too excited last night to focus on anything except the fight.  Robin _had_ taken down two of the bigger henchmen and that was definitely something to be proud of.  Batman was glad he had given his partner a break.

* * *

            “…and that way he will be chasing after his little sidekick while we complete the deal with Turino.  What do you think?” Big Johnny asked his muscle man Jake, although he didn’t really care about the answer.

            Jake, of course, completely agreed with everything his boss was saying and nodded his head.  “Who do you want me to get for the job, boss?” he inquired.  “I’m assuming you don’t want me to do it since it will tip off Batman.”

            “Well, out of the three villains that owe me,” Big Johnny replied, “I think Joker would be the most reliable – if he could even be called that.  He enjoys playing games with Batman and giving him the sidekick would definitely keep Batman’s attention.  Go find Joker and call in that favor.  NOW!” he yelled and Jake dashed away to locate the psychotic clown.

* * *

            Joker sat glumly in his solitary cell at Arkham.  His body was slumped, his elbows were on his knees and his head was resting in his hands.  He was out of ideas; he couldn’t figure out how to escape.  He needed someone on the outside but all of his henchmen were in here with him and he already owed a mob boss a favor.  There was no way he was going to ask for help from anyone anymore.  He hated that Big Johnny had something to hold over him. 

           He heard a key and the sound of his cell door swinging open.  Glancing up, he was surprised to see an empty doorway.  Quietly, he stood up and tiptoed over to the bars, cautiously peering out into the hallway when he got there.  Looking right and then left he realized that there were no guards or prisoners in sight.  Not wanting to waste his chance, and not caring about stealth, he raced down the long corridor to the – again to his surprise – open door that led to the prison yard.  It, too, was empty of people. 

            There was a large springboard by the wall in the west corner and Joker grinned.   He didn’t know why it was there or who had put it there but he recognized the opportunity.  After glancing around one more time, he sprinted toward the springboard and took off.  His jump was just high enough to clear the prison wall and he landed roughly in the large branches of an old oak tree.  There was a rope ladder directly under his feet but he couldn’t see anything else through the plethora of leaves surrounding him.  Should he take the risk?  Loud voices were suddenly in the prison yard below him and he answered his own question in the affirmative.

            After quickly scrambling down the ladder, Joker suddenly knew why he had escaped so easily.  There was a long, dark car with a black-haired man leaning against it, his muscular arms folded loosely across his chest.  Joker remembered the man’s name – Jake.  He was Big Johnny’s top muscle man and it was now obvious that the mob boss was cashing in the favor.

            Jake lifted his sunglasses, boredom shining in his hazel eyes, and flicked his head toward the open door on the passenger side.  Joker strolled over, gave the man a slap on the shoulder and, with a huge grin, hopped in the car.  Jake slammed the door, strode to the driver’s side and they sped off toward the mansion that the mob boss called home.


	3. Chapter 3

** Chapter 3: **

**That night:**

            “Come on, Batman, the Bat-signal has been on for five minutes already!” Robin shouted.  He was standing up in the Batmobile and staring at his partner, who was on the opposite side of the Batcave discussing something with Alfred.

            “Robin, patience,” Batman growled, although there was a hint of a smile in his voice.

            After what seemed like two hours to Robin, Batman finally strode to the Batmobile and climbed inside.  Fifteen minutes later, they were on the roof of Police Headquarters with Commissioner Gordon and Chief O’Hara.

            “Thank heavens you’re here, Batman.  I have terrible news,” the commissioner stated gravely.  “The Clown Prince of Crime used a springboard to vault over the wall of the prison this afternoon.”

            “That dastardly devil,” Chief O’Hara muttered with a frown.

            “Joker?” Batman was surprised.  He had just put the villain away two months ago and the escape usually took much longer than that.  He glanced to his left and saw Robin’s eyes widening, a hint of fear prowling around the edges of the blue circles.  Robin would not be allowed to go with him.  Batman would have to take the boy home before going after Joker.

            Robin listened quietly to the conversation flowing over his head.   Cringing slightly when he heard the name “Joker”, he clenched his hands into fists while also trying to appear unafraid.  He did _not_ want to go and was actually relieved that this particular villain was on the “not yet” list.  Batman would undoubtedly take him back to the Batcave first.

            The sound of an explosion ripped through the silence of the night and a red cloud burst into the air.  Batman noticed Robin flinch at the noise and the older hero glared at the flames that were licking the sky.  Frowning, he realized that they would have to go right now, that he didn’t have time to take Robin home.  He would close the roof of the Batmobile and his young partner would be safe inside the locked vehicle.  Everything was going to be fine.  Batman could quickly catch Joker then return himself and Robin to the Batcave before dawn.  That was his plan, anyway….

* * *

            Joker glared at the Bat-signal and waited impatiently for Batman to show up.  The bomb was in downtown Gotham, close to Police Headquarters, and he was confident that The Bat would be here as soon as possible.  He heard the distinctive roar of the engine and watched the Batmobile turn the corner and slam to a stop.  A look of horror flashed across Batman’s face and Joker, who could see everything through the windshield, grinned.  Almost the entire block was on fire and most of the buildings consisted of apartments.  Then Joker noticed a small head peeking over the dashboard – that had to be the young sidekick.  _Why?_   The villain shook his head and put on his disguise. 

* * *

            Robin stared at the huge fire that was eating up building after building.  Batman was going in there?  Alone?  He shook his head – Batman would go after Joker.  There had to be something that he, Robin, could do that didn’t involve chasing and capturing Joker.

            “What do you want me to do?” Robin asked quietly, distress lacing his tone.  So many buildings were on fire.  So many people….

            Batman turned his head and his eyes burned into those of Robin.  “I want you to stay right here, in the Batmobile, with the roof closed and the doors locked.  Joker is unpredictable and dangerous.  Do not unlock or open any exit points, no matter what!  Do you understand?”

            Robin’s eyes were wide again.  “But what about the people in the buildings?  I could help them get out, right?”

            “Robin, it’s your second night of crime-fighting and it’s _Joker_.  The police and firefighters will be here soon and can take of it.  Do not leave the Batmobile!  Are we clear?!” Batman demanded loudly.

            “Yes, Batman, I’ll stay right here with the doors locked and not open anything for anyone.”

            There was a trace of fear in Robin’s voice and Batman internally sighed.  He had hoped for something easy again but they lived in Gotham City – there had never been two easy nights in a row.

            “Okay, I’ll be back soon,” Batman lowered his voice, attempting to allay the growing panic that he detected in his partner’s body language.  “Watch for anything suspicious but do not, under any circumstances…”

            “Okay, Batman, I got it!” Robin interrupted anxiously.  “Go, before Joker gets farther away from you!”

            Batman nodded, exited the car and waited for the sound of the locks clicking before looking around for any clues.  There was a trail of footprints to his right, away from the buildings that were on fire.  Joker had run away?  Usually he stayed to watch the carnage from one of his bombs.  The villain must have a different target in mind; the bomb was a distraction.  Batman roughly pulled on the handle of the Batmobile to reassure himself that it was locked then took off into the darkness of the night.

* * *

            Joker grinned again as he watched Batman leave his little sidekick alone and vulnerable in the Batmobile.  He waited a few minutes to make sure Batman was following the trail he had left in the other direction then limped out of one of the burning buildings.

* * *

            Robin watched as the police officers and firefighters arrived and began directing people to safety while working on putting out the fire.  It was enormous and Robin wished he could help in some way.  But Batman had told him to stay here and, he had to admit, he was really scared of Joker. 

            A small movement to his right distracted Robin from the bright, orange-red glow and he turned to see what was happening.  He gasped in distress when he saw an old man with a cane trying to get out of the last building at the end of the row.  The fire was gradually creeping in that direction and there were no safety personnel in that area yet.  The man suddenly collapsed and stopped moving.

            Robin moved to the driver’s side of the Batmobile and pounded on the window, trying to get someone’s attention.  The roar of the fire was too loud and nobody was responding to the noise he was making.  He looked back toward the old man and saw a crackling wire bouncing around on the ground, slowly heading toward the motionless form.  Turning around again, Robin continued to pound on the window, yelling as loud as he could that someone needed to help that old man!  Nobody even turned to look in his direction and he became frustrated.  Batman had told him to stay in the Batmobile but the old man was about to _die_!  Heroes were supposed to save people, not watch them die, and Robin didn’t know what to do. 

            Joker’s trail was going in the opposite direction, away from the now-burning building and the helpless old man.  Robin could run to the man, get him to safety and return to the Batmobile in a short amount of time and everything would be fine.  Moving back to his side of the car, he looked cautiously around the area, peering into the dark corners of the buildings that were not on fire.  There were no unusual movements or irregular shadows so he carefully unlocked his door and got out.  Leaving the door open so he could get back inside quickly, Robin sprinted to the old man and knelt beside him.

            “Sir, can you hear me?” he shouted.  There was no response of any kind so Robin put his left hand on the man’s right shoulder and gently shook it.  “We need to get away from here before we get electrocuted or burned!”

            “Wh…what?” the old man’s voice was scratchy and he sounded confused.  Robin helped him sit up but knew that his small frame wouldn’t be able to fully support the much larger body of the man. 

            “Can you walk?” Robin asked, his voice still loud enough to be heard over the roar of the fire that was beginning to die down slightly.  He draped the man’s right arm over his own shoulders in order to try to get them up on their feet.  “We have to get out of here, now!”

            “You’re right, we do have to get out of here.”

            The old man’s suddenly-strong voice sounded evil and there was laughter surrounding the words.  The skinny but muscular right arm that had been laid across Robin’s shoulders suddenly tightened around his neck and the boy began gasping for the air that was no longer being allowed to enter his lungs.

            Robin was shocked and realized, too late, that he had fallen into a trap.  _I should have stayed in the Batmobile_ was his final thought as the back of his head exploded with pain and his world went dark.

            Joker cackled quietly as he picked up the small body and fled in the opposite direction of Batman.  The hard part was over, although it had been easier than he had expected, and now he could play with Batman through his sidekick.  He suddenly realized that he had left his cane but decided it was too late to go back for it.  Batman would return soon and Joker wanted to be as far away as possible before that happened.

* * *

**Twenty minutes later:**

            Batman arrived at the Batmobile, a little out of breath because of all the smoke, and stopped in horror: Robin’s door was open and there was no sign of his partner.  He ran around to the passenger side of the Batmobile and saw a path of small footprints in the dirt and grime.  They led him to the entrance of the blackened shell of the building at the end of the row.  There was nothing else to follow, though, because of the ash and soot from the fire.

            Batman crouched and scanned the ground carefully – there was a long cane with what looked like a streak of blood on one side.  It would have to be analyzed so he carefully picked it up.  He stood and turned slowly in a circle while realizing two things: he had nothing to go on and he had fallen for one of Joker’s false trails.  Robin had been Joker’s target all along and Batman growled in frustration.  It was his own fault; he should have returned his partner safely to the Batcave before chasing the crazy villain who always had several tricks up his sleeve.

            Quickly making his way around and then through the burnt building, the Caped Crusader began looking for anything unusual.  He doubted that Joker would still be here but there could be a clue or a trail or…a small body.  Shaking his head, Batman quickly dismissed that thought.  Joker wouldn’t kill Robin right away.  He would want to toy with Batman, keep him guessing and make Batman chase him.

            “I’m so sorry, Robin,” Batman whispered as he raced back to the Batmobile.  Wishing he had reminded his partner where his emergency Bat-transmitter signal was located on his uniform, Batman closed both doors and sped away.  He remembered the fear that had filled Robin’s young face when Commissioner Gordon had been telling them about Joker.  It was his partner’s _second_ night and he was in the clutches of that psychotic man.  If Robin was injured in any way when Batman found them, Joker would be paying a heavy price.

* * *

            Robin woke up with a slight headache and attempted to take in his surroundings.  The only source of light was a slim ray of white shining through the window behind him.  It was creating shadows that were continuously morphing into different shapes and sizes.  That made it impossible for him to figure out where he was and increased the panic radiating from his expressive eyes.  He was tied to a wobbly chair – his arms behind him – and shaking.  A man’s face was gliding in and out of the shadows but Robin was immediately able to recognize the distinctive characteristics of Joker’s features.  The one villain he _didn’t_ want to meet yet was right in front of him and Robin was defenseless.

            Joker was sitting on the only other chair in the room, his hands clasped behind his head and his legs thrown across the top of a rickety wooden table that was situated between them.  He, too, was watching a face drifting through the shadows – one that was young and filled with alarm.  The villain wanted to be able to see the boy clearly, though, so he reached up and pulled the string that was three feet above him.  A light bulb flickered then steadied and the room was now bathed in a sickly yellow glow. 

            “What’s your name, kid?” Joker snarled.

            Robin, who knew nothing about what a hero should do when he is kidnapped – it was, after all, his first time – answered the man.  “R…Robin,” he whispered, his voice full of fear.

            “So, the Big Bad Bat has a little baby bird to take care of now.  Why does he need you, Robbie?”

            Robin sat up as tall as he could and tried to sound brave as he stated, “I help him fight villains like you!”

            “Wooooo hahahaha!” Joker cackled maniacally.  “ _You_ help _him_ fight?  Batman has never needed help and he definitely doesn’t need it from a ten-year-old boy!”

            “I’m thirteen!” Robin shouted angrily then cowered back against the chair when Joker stopped laughing and glared at him.

            “Of course you are.  It’s really a big difference, those three years.  Ten-year-olds still wear diapers while thirteen-year-olds are in pullups,” he sneered.  “The younger uses bottles while the older is already at the sippy-cup stage.  Obviously you are so _very_ ready to take on Gotham City’s best villains, since you are sitting here with me and tied to a chair.”

            Robin kept his mouth shut, tears forming at the inside corners of his eyes.  Did Batman even know he was gone yet?  Was Joker going to kill him?  Why hadn’t he just stayed in the Batmobile?  If Batman did find him he was going to be in so much trouble.

            Joker saw the moisture that was threatening to spill down the young boy’s cheeks and grinned.  It had been less than thirty minutes and the sidekick was already crying!  Why did Batman need a _kid_ and why had he chosen such an inexperienced one?  He shrugged and remembered the “instructions” from Big Johnny.  At least he wouldn’t owe the mob boss any more favors after he was done with the boy.

            “Wh…what are you, uh, going to do with, um, with me?”

            The timid voice startled Joker out of his thoughts and he laughed out loud when a tear slid down Robin’s small cheek.

            “Well,” Joker was giggling now, “I’m supposed to leave a bunch of clues for Batsy to follow around.  The guy who hired me to kidnap you wants The Bat to be focused on rescuing you instead of fighting crime.  Apparently he has some big deal coming up with some mob boss and doesn’t want Batsy to screw it up.”

            Joker stopped laughing and narrowed his eyes.  “So, we’re going to be having lots of fun traveling and making all sorts of videos to send to Police Headquarters for everybody’s viewing pleasure.”

            Robin’s eyes widened in dread, “What kind of, um, videos?”

            “Are you scared, Robbie-boy?” Joker inquired seriously, dropping his legs off the table and sitting straight up in his chair.

            Robin didn’t know how to answer.  Should he admit it and hope Joker would have a little mercy or should he be brave, like Batman would be, and deny the very existence of fear?

            “Robin, are you scared?” Joker demanded this time and Robin chose the latter.

            “No, uh, of course n…not.”  He knew he sounded like an idiot and that his shaking voice was giving him away.

            Joker cackled again when he saw Robin squeeze his left eye to hold back a tear.  “Oh, um, nope, uh, I’m not sc…sc…scared at all,” he mocked.  “What are you now, three?  ‘Pweese don’t hurt me!’  Only little kids cry, Robbie-boy!” he yelled as he stood up and strolled around the table.  He was now only two feet away from Robin, half-sitting on the table’s edge and watching the boy’s reactions carefully.

            Robin sniffled then stared defiantly into Joker’s eyes, “I’m thirteen and I’m _not_ crying!”

            A clammy hand slapped itself across Robin’s face, leaving a bright red print and swiping some evidence away from his left eye.

            “What is this, then, little one?” Joker demanded, a wet tear clinging to the end of his pinky finger.  “Wait!” he held up his other hand.  “Sweat, right?  That was going to be your excuse, wasn’t it?  Poor little baby bird, you can’t trick the man who is going to end up being your favorite villain!”

            Robin’s left cheek was stinging and his eye was burning from the drop of blood that was drawn when Joker’s fingernail had brushed the outside corner of his lid.  It was sliding down the inside of his eye on its way toward his cheek and blinking made the burning feeling worse.  The pain, accompanied by the fear, made his eyes water even more and suddenly he couldn’t stop the tears.  Batman was going to be _so_ mad at him.  He was supposed to be brave and crying was the opposite of bravery.

            “Wow, you really are a baby, aren’t you?” Joker scoffed.  “Now is a great time to make a video for Batsy so he can see that his little baby sidekick is too scared to control his tears.”  Joker walked toward the front door where his equipment was already set up.  He pressed record and stuck his face in front of the lens.

            “Hello, Batsy!  I have a new friend!  Can you guess who it is?  I’ll give you two hints.  First, he’s a baby.  Second, he’s scared out of his mind.  It’s…Robbiee!”  Joker moved around to the back of the camera and focused the lens on Robin, who was doing his best to stop the tears so that Batman wouldn’t worry too much.

            “Say hello to your hero, bird brain!” Joker screeched as he zoomed in on Robin’s face.

            Robin opened his mouth to speak but hiccupped instead and that almost started another round of tears.  He shook his head and took a deep breath, willing himself to calm down.

            “Oh, dear, I think your baby bird forgot how to talk,” Joker stated from behind the camera.  “I really don’t understand why you want him working with you.  In my opinion, you should just forget about having a sidekick and continue your normal crime-fighting routine.”

            “I’m…” Robin started but had to stop and sniffle.  “I’m fine, Batman!” he yelled but his bottom lip trembled and his voice was shaky.

            Joker zoomed back out and circled the video camera around the room.  “Here’s your first clue, Batsy!  Figure it out soon if you want your baby sidekick back in one piece!” he howled, laughing as he turned off the camera.

            Robin became terrified when he heard those words.  He desperately hoped that Batman would recognize the old shack that used to be the home of the keeper of the lighthouse on the east side of Gotham City.  The lighthouse that was still working but had been abandoned since before Dick Grayson had even heard of Gotham City.

            Joker rewound the videotape and removed it from the camera.  “I’ll be right back, little one,” he snarled and walked out the door.

            JT was waiting outside in the gray mist that signaled the coming of dawn, leaning against a red and black motorcycle.  Placing his helmet over his head, the large man grabbed the videotape that was now wrapped in brown paper and tied with a gaudy purple string.  He tucked the package into the big, right-hand pocket of his black leather jacket and zipped it closed.  Straddling the bike, he revved the engine and prepared to take off.

            “Wait!” Joker suddenly yelled.  “It’s missing something important!”

            The criminal glanced at the villain with a slight frown on his face.  Joker reached into the front pocket of his purple suit jacket and pulled out a playing card.  JT rolled his eyes behind the black visor of his helmet and retrieved the package from his pocket.  Big Johnny was going to be upset if he was late to the planning meeting and JT didn’t want to face the wrath of his boss for the second time in two days.  What he really wanted to do, he thought as he watched Joker attach the card to the package, was go inside and beat that little sidekick to pieces.  He didn’t understand why Big Johnny was letting this stupid villain have all the fun.  After all, JT was the one who had been taken down and _he_ should be the one to get revenge on the kid.

            Snatching the package out of Joker’s hand again, JT glared at the front door of the villain’s hiding spot then took off, his back to the first pale light of the rising sun.  He would somehow find a way to get to the kid but right now he had a delivery to make at Gotham City’s Police Headquarters.    


	4. Chapter 4

** Chapter 4: **

**Several hours earlier:**

            “Alfred,” Batman called as he exited the Batmobile in the Batcave.  “Have you received any unusual calls about Robin?”

            Alfred, who was dusting the Bat-analyzer, glanced over in surprise.  “No, Master Batman, I haven’t.”  He deftly caught the tall cane Batman had just thrown his way and gently placed it on the machine. 

            “Where is Master Robin?” the butler inquired when no little form climbed out of the Batmobile.

            Batman scowled and clenched his hands into fists.  “Joker has him,” he growled. 

            “What?!” Alfred came as close to shouting as he had ever been.  A small ‘ding’ grabbed the attention of both men and Alfred glanced down at the Bat-analyzer.

            “It’s the blood of Dick Grayson, aka Robin, right?” Batman sighed.  Alfred nodded and Batman raised his right hand to stop the questions before the butler could even begin to ask them.

            “Joker is smart, I followed a false trail, I told Robin to stay in the locked Batmobile but somehow Joker got him to leave and now he is GONE!” Batman was yelling in frustration by the time he was done speaking.  “I don’t even want to _think_ about what could be happening to Robin right now and there were no clues, no trails, _nothing_ that I can use to find him!  Except that cane,” he amended, “but the only thing _that_ tells me is that some part of Robin’s body is bloody!”

            Batman had been pacing around the Batcave during this little speech and he slammed his fist onto the Bat-computer’s table upon arriving there.

            Alfred was in shock and didn’t know what to say.  It was only Robin’s second night out and he had been captured by one of Batman’s most volatile enemies.

            “Okay,” Batman attempted to calm himself down, “Joker’s usual hideout is a warehouse but…where do I start?”  He began a search on the Bat-computer, looking for unusual activity around any of the many sections of warehouses located throughout Gotham City.

* * *

**Several hours later – mid-morning:**

            _BEEP. BEEP. BEEP._  

            Alfred, who was right next to the Batphone, picked it up, “I’ll summon him, sir.”

            Batman was already there.  “Yes, Commissioner?  A videotape?  Joker’s calling card, of course.  I’m on my way.”  He turned to Alfred, “Please keep an eye on that warehouse search.  Commissioner Gordon has just…”

            He was uncharacteristically interrupted by his usually-dignified butler.

            “I know, sir, I heard.  Go!” Alfred exclaimed, throwing propriety out the window in his concern for the young crime-fighter.

            The Batmobile flew through the streets of Gotham City, startling strolling pedestrians and almost colliding several times with drivers who were late for work.  Batman jumped out as soon as he parked in front of Police Headquarters then sprinted up the stairs and into the commissioner’s office.  Chief O’Hara had already set up the closed-circuit television and played the video as soon as Batman arrived. 

            Joker’s face appeared on the screen and Batman growled when Joker taunted him.  The camera zoomed in on Robin who, surprisingly, seemed to be relatively uninjured.  There was a slight red mark that resembled a handprint on his left cheek and a dribble of dried blood at the corner of his left eye.

            Batman saw the fear on his young partner’s face and the tear tracks zigzagging down both cheeks.  He knew that Joker was the one villain Robin was really scared of, even though he tried not to show it.  And now he was with that madman, alone, with no way of knowing if Batman would ever find him.   

            The Caped Crusader stepped closer to the television when Joker panned the camera around the room.  It seemed slightly familiar and he instructed Chief O’Hara to repeat that part of the video.  There was the sound of…water, maybe?  The chief kept rewinding and playing that small section of tape while Batman scrutinized every last detail.  It obviously wasn’t a warehouse but there was a half-open window with light shining through the semi-darkness of the room.

            “Stop!” Batman yelled when the camera was focused on the window.  The light was diagonal across the glass – it looked different than it had two seconds ago.  “Again,” he demanded and Chief O’Hara rewound it.  The light was moving!  In the four seconds that it took for the camera to move past the window, the light had gone from vertical to diagonal.  What kind of light….

            “The lighthouse!” Batman suddenly shouted.  He raced out of the room, down to the Batmobile and sped off into the morning sun.

* * *

            Robin, after shutting down the tears, had eventually managed to stop sniffling and was now glaring at the pacing Joker.  The man had packed up his video equipment and was mumbling to himself.

            “Where to next, Batsy?”  Joker didn’t know yet and it was bothering him.  A warehouse was too obvious; Batman would look for him there right away.  He glanced out the window at the bright sun then looked at his watch – 10:07.  The videotape was probably already in the commissioner’s office.  It was two and a half hours away from the lighthouse but Batman had probably already seen it.  The Batmobile wouldn’t take two and a half hours; Joker would be lucky if it took two.  The villain needed to get out of the shack but had neglected to formulate a plan.  He had been too excited to begin the game and, if he didn’t come up with something quickly, he would soon be on the losing end.

            Robin wanted to say something but thought he probably shouldn’t.  He wanted to vocalize the sarcastic thought running through his mind but was scared of what Joker might do.  The young crime-fighter was having a hard time keeping it to himself, though, and it almost came out several times.  Another thought scooted quickly across his mind: did kidnapped crime-fighters harass their abductors?  He mentally sighed and rolled his eyes at himself.  If he got out of here he was going to ask Batman to teach him how to react to being kidnapped.

            “Aha!” exclaimed Joker and Robin flinched at the sudden sound.  “He wouldn’t expect me to return to the scene of the crime!”

            The villain turned to Robin and saw a look of indecision on the sidekick’s face.  Was the boy trying to decide whether or not he should try to escape?  It didn’t really matter; there was no way the kid could get away from THE Joker.  Grinning, he walked over to the sidekick and crouched in front of him so their eyes were on the same level.

            Staring into Robin’s eyes, which were now full of fear again, Joker whispered, “Your face is a little unbalanced.  I’ll correct that when we get to our next destination.”

            The man stood up and strolled away from Robin, picking up the empty chair on his way around the table.

            That comment didn’t make sense to Robin but it didn’t matter because there was another explosion of pain at the back of his head and he slumped down, his body becoming limp.  Joker tossed aside the pieces of the now-broken chair and untied the boy.  Flipping the small form over his left shoulder, he strode out the door to his Jokermobile, which he had parked next to the thick forest behind the run-down shack.

* * *

**Ninety minutes later:**

            Batman parked the Batmobile at the edge of the other side of the forest, leaving almost a mile of trees between himself and the shack.  He wanted the element of surprise and the distinctive sound of the Batmobile’s engine would take that advantage away.

            Climbing out of the car, the Caped Crusader entered the forest and quietly ran toward the shack.  It quickly came into view and he stopped to orient himself.  He was just west of the shack and there was no way to see inside.  The lighthouse was east of the wooden structure so the window had to be on the eastern wall.  Batman circled around the back and noticed a set of tire tracks.  His focus was Robin, however, and he turned his attention to the eastern side of the shack.  And there it was – the window through which the rotating light had been shining last night.  Cautiously, he crept to the small square of glass and peered through the half-open space.  There was no sign of Joker or Robin so he strode around the corner and through the front door.

            The first things he saw were pieces of wood strewn haphazardly around the room.  Some of the chunks were big enough that he could tell they had previously formed a chair.  There was an upright chair with a long rope on the ground beside it.  Batman picked up one end and examined it carefully – no blood and no warmth from a human body.  There were a few drops of red on the floor and a small streak on the nearest piece of broken wood. They had been here but Joker loved the thrill of the chase and had already moved on.  How long ago had they departed and where had they gone?

            There was nothing more to be seen here so Batman dropped the rope and walked out the door.  As he headed toward the forest, he realized that the tire tracks went all the way around the crumbled building and then headed west, back toward Gotham.  Shaking his head in irritation – Joker could be both tricky and idiotic – he raced through the trees and climbed back into the Batmobile.  Turning the vehicle around, he found and followed the other set of tire tracks until he lost them on the black asphalt of a Gotham City street.

* * *

**Mid-afternoon:**      

            Joker carried the motionless body down the stairs, appreciating the fact that the boy was so light.  Dropping the tiny form on the hard cement, he went back up to his Jokermobile.  It was behind the building and he had covered it with burned branches that had been trees before last night’s fire.  Nobody would go snooping around a burnt building so the villain was confident that his vehicle wouldn’t be noticed. 

            Opening the trunk, Joker grabbed his video equipment, handcuffs and a long metal chain then slammed it shut and returned to the basement where the small sidekick was still out cold.  After placing everything except the handcuffs on the ground, he picked up the kid’s limp right arm and dragged him to a water pipe on the other side of the room.  He sat Robin up and pulled his arms around the pole, cuffing his hands behind his back.  The boy’s head dropped forward, his chin hitting his chest, and Joker was disappointed that he hadn’t awoken.

            “Wake up, little sidekick!” Joker crowed as he grabbed the top of Robin’s head and shook it around.  He frowned when there was no response; he would have to be more careful the next time he knocked the kid out.  Increasing the quickness of the shaking, he was satisfied when he heard a slight noise.

            Robin allowed a small groan to escape from his throat as he felt his aching head being bounced from side to side.  Where was he and why did he feel restrained?  His eyes flipped open as his memory returned and he was startled to see the frightening face of Joker right in front of him.

            “Welcome back, Robbiiieee,” Joker giggled.  “Let me fix that face for you now.”

            The villain slapped the right side of Robin’s face, just hard enough to leave a handprint that almost exactly matched the one on the left side.  Robin flinched slightly but made no noise.

            “There, that looks better.  What rosy cheeks you have, sweet little baby!  I just want to hold you and cuddle you and _hurt you_ ,” Joker emphasized the last two words with a snarl.

            Then his voice became sugary sweet as he continued, “And such an adorable outfit!  That little red dress with those cute baby tights and pint-sized booties!  Can you dress yourself yet or does Daddy Bat have to help you?”  Joker was hysterical with laughter by the time he was done mocking the Robin-suit.

            “It is _not_ a dress and I am _not_ a baby,” Robin muttered, dropping his eyes to the ground.  The taunt had hurt and a short wave of humiliation jolted down his body.  His uniform wasn’t _adorable_!  It was similar to the one Batman wore and nobody would ever call _Batman_ adorable.

            The psychotic clown watched as the back of the sidekick’s neck reddened with embarrassment.

            “Oh no!” he gasped, the words filled with phony concern.  “Did I hurt your feelings?  It’s okay little one, go ahead and cry.  Just let it all out,” Joker crooned with a giggle.    

            Hot tears of shame filled Robin’s eyes but he refused to cry.  He was _not_ a baby – he was thirteen – and _no_ villain, not even one as crazy as Joker, was going to make him cry ever again.

            The sarcastic thought that had entered his mind back at the shack was still skipping around in his brain but he chose to keep it inside.  It probably wouldn’t be very effective if his voice was shaking from his attempt to remain strong.  Choking back tears while trying to insult the villain would make him sound like a baby and then Joker would be right.  So, he kept his mouth shut and tried to think about something other than the fact that his footwear _did_ look a little bit like the small booties people put on the feet of their babies.

            Joker was now standing up, facing away from Robin and trying to figure out another way to toy with the kid before beginning any physical pain.  He heard a tiny growl and whipped his head around.  Robin was looking down at his stomach and Joker laughed.  The sidekick was hungry!  The poor boy hadn’t had a drink or anything to eat since sometime last night.

            Robin’s eyes went from the floor to his stomach, annoyed that the grumble had been so loud.  He was really hungry, though, and maybe Joker had just forgotten that it was past lunch time and they hadn’t even eaten breakfast yet!

            The young crime-fighter raised his head and looked up at the villain while struggling to calm down enough to speak.  Avoiding direct eye contact in favor of keeping his voice as steady as possible, he said quietly, “Excuse me, may I please have something to eat and drink?”  Alfred would be pleased with his manners and grammar, if Robin ever got out of here to tell him.

            Joker stared at the boy in astonishment.  _Did he just say excuse me?  What kind of kidnapping victim is polite to his captor?_   He shook his head and crouched down again, “Sorry, baby bird, but there is nothing here.”

            Grabbing Robin’s chin, the villain forced the boy to look him in the eyes and carefully searched the blue orbs for another emotion to exploit.  There was only fear and pain with an outline of humiliation that was slowly but steadily fading away.  Nothing new to use against the sidekick so Joker shrugged and continued, “You see, this building was burned really badly last night and I don’t think anything survived.” 

            The man abruptly let go of the boy’s chin and stood up again.  There was a short pause then suddenly Joker put a hand to his ear.  “Wait!” he screamed and Robin jumped.  “I hear a…rat!  You want some rat, bird brain?”

            Robin made a face of disgust and shook his head.  _Rat?!_   Joker wasn’t going to eat a rat was he?  Robin’s eyes widened a little at his next thought: Joker wouldn’t make _him_ eat a rat, would he?

            “Well, Robbie-boy, what do you like to eat?  I can go out on the town tonight but only if you behave and do what you are told.  Do you understand, little one?” Joker sneered at him condescendingly.

            “Uh, well,” Robin’s voice held a slight tinge of hope, “I like chicken and any kind of green vegetable.  I can behave, just ask Batman.  I always – well, almost always – follow his instructions,” he declared.

            “Oh, reeeaaallly,” Joker drew out the word in disbelief.  “And did you follow his instructions when you got out of the Batmobile to help that poor old man last night?”

            Robin frowned and mumbled, “I said ‘almost always’.”

            Joker began laughing hysterically again.  “You, little one, are a hoot!  Maybe you should forget about Batman and be my sidekick instead!”  He became more serious as he stared into Robin’s not-so-scared-anymore eyes.  “By the way, Batman will probably forget about you soon.  He’s never had, never _needed_ , a sidekick so for him it will be normal to fight alone.  He’s probably already realized that having to take care of a baby bird is annoying, especially since you were captured so easily.  No matter how quickly I make and send videos, he will soon give up and decide that you aren’t worth the trouble.  I hate to break it to you kid but Batman won’t be coming for you.”

            Robin’s eyes widened again.  _Not coming?  No, Batman will come, I know he will.  He won’t forget about me.  He wants me to be his partner!  Or sidekick, I guess.  He’ll come…right?  I know he…but what if…no, he’ll come…right?_  

            Joker watched as different emotions flitted across the young boy’s face – fear, distress, confidence and, finally, doubt.  The last one was the one he was hoping for and he grinned.  He could take that tiny seed of doubt, nourish it and watch it grow until the kid completely broke down in defeat.  Then he would start the real fun, when the little sidekick believed that he was truly alone and could never escape.


	5. Chapter 5

** Chapter 5: **

**Late afternoon:**

            Batman drove to the row of warehouses that was closest to the lighthouse, although he doubted Joker would stay so close to where he had just been.

            _BEEP. BEEP. BEEP._   He picked up the Batphone extension in the Batmobile.

            “Yes, Commissioner?” he demanded.

            “Batman, I’m glad I caught you.  Did you find Robin at the lighthouse?” the commissioner asked.

            “No, Commissioner,” Batman responded impatiently.  “What do you need?”

            “We’ve had several reports about a man matching Joker’s description on the outskirts of downtown Gotham,” Commissioner Gordon explained.

            “Thank you, Commissioner, I’m on my way,” Batman replied.  He replaced the Batphone extension, turned the Batmobile around and sped off toward the center of Gotham City.  If it _was_ Joker, it was about to be much easier to find his young partner.

* * *

            The sun had just dropped below the horizon when Joker left Robin sitting in the darkened basement of the dirty building.  The water pipe to which he was attached was under the portion of the first floor that hadn’t caved in during the fire.  The only light was a silver beam from the bright half-moon that strolled its way around the burnt remains.  Robin attempted to lean toward it but it was just out of reach of his tightly restrained body.  Joker had wrapped the long chain around both Robin’s torso and the pole, ensuring that he wouldn’t be able to escape.  The links were cutting into his skin and even the smallest movement caused chafing and, sometimes, a dribble of blood.  Robin thought about yelling for help but realized that the entire block would be covered with police tape.  The public would not be allowed to go near any of the buildings so shouting would be fruitless.  Also, Robin didn’t want to think about what Joker might do to him if he was caught making noise.

            The villain returned within half an hour, still grinning at the look on the teenagers’ faces when he had taken their dinner.  He had never jumped _into_ a moving car and it had been a rush but he didn’t think he would want to do it again.

            “I brought chicken and broccoli, doesn’t it smell delicious?” Joker exclaimed upon arriving at his temporary hideout.  Walking over to the sidekick, he held up a large bag from a nearby diner and placed it on the floor.  The villain also had some tall paper cups and Robin hoped that they contained water because his throat was sore and it hurt to swallow.

            Joker was unpacking the food and the aroma began to fill even the smallest cracks in the walls of the basement.  Robin licked his dry lips when he saw the grilled strips of chicken breast and the steam emanating from the obviously buttered broccoli.  

            Robin had been quiet all day and was sure that Joker was going to reward him for it.  His inexperience was causing him to unknowingly play right into Joker’s hands.  Having never been abducted, he knew nothing about the things villains enjoy doing to their captives.

            Joker, who was quite possibly the most evil of all the villains, cackled quietly when he saw Robin’s eyes widen in anticipation.  This was going to be fun and the best part was that the boy actually thought he was about to be rewarded for “good behavior”.  The kid hadn’t said a word all afternoon, hadn’t even struggled or tried to get away.  He was new to crime-fighting, though, so Joker knew that this was probably his first time being kidnapped.  Therefore, the poor boy presumably didn’t know how a “hero” should act in this situation.  The villain took the plate of food and the paper cups over to Robin and sat down in front of him.

            “So, little baby sidekick, have you been a good boy today?” Joker giggled in anticipation of the answer and reaction to what was about to happen.

            “Yes,” Robin replied timidly as he stared at the food and his stomach growled.

            “Let’s have a drink first, shall we?” Joker grinned.  “I can hear that your voice is a little scratchy and we don’t want to ruin your young vocal chords.”  He took one of the cups and held it up to Robin’s lips.  The boy drank in the cool water greedily and was disappointed when it was taken away after only a few seconds.

            Placing the cup on the floor beside him, Joker exclaimed, “I’m hungry!”  He howled with laughter, picked up the longest strip of chicken and took a large bite.  “You want some?”

            Robin nodded, his eyes never leaving the food.

            “What do you say, Robbie-boy?” Joker reprimanded his lack of manners.

            Robin tore his gaze away from the plate and looked straight into Joker’s amused eyes.

            “May I please…” he started but was immediately interrupted.

            “NO!” Joker yelled and began laughing uncontrollably.  After finally calming down, he picked up a piece of broccoli and held it up for inspection.  “You know,” he commented, “I never did like broccoli.”  He tossed the vegetable on the floor next to Robin’s tightly restrained left hand.  “If you can get it you can have it.”  Joker shrugged then proceeded to eat the rest of the chicken, licking his fingers loudly when he was done.

            Robin was mesmerized by the chicken and didn’t even think about going for the lone piece of broccoli on the floor beside him.  He watched longingly as Joker slowly chewed the juicy strips, hoping that maybe the villain would change his mind.

            “What are you staring at, kid?” Joker grinned as he patted his stomach.  “That was some good chicken.  Don’t you want your broccoli?” he inquired as he took the small bowl and dumped the juicy pieces on the ground all around Robin – each one just out of his reach.  “How about some more water?” the villain continued as he threw the remaining contents of the cup in Robin’s face.  A large piece of ice hit the young crime-fighter in the eye and he knew he was going to have a small bruise from that.

            Tears began to form in Robin’s eyes, threatening to join the icy water that was trickling down his cheeks.  The smell was killing him, his stomach was protesting loudly and cold water was traveling down the back of his neck, causing him to shiver.  He looked at the ground and attempted to grab the closest piece of broccoli but only got three of his fingertips on it.  There was a small splash of something on the floor in front of him and he realized that it was one of his tears.  _NO!_   He shut his eyes and willed the moisture away from the edges of his lids.  An idea began to form in his mind and he opened his eyes again.  Joker had walked away, chuckling merrily to himself, so Robin decided to take the chance.  It was risky – and a little bit disgusting – but it would be worth it.

            His arms and torso were immobile but his legs were completely free.  Joker didn’t know anything about Robin, except that he was an inexperienced kid, so he didn’t realize that the boy’s legs were his greatest assets.  Looking at the broccoli spread around him, Robin found the one he wanted and went to work.

            He pushed his left foot against the heel of his right boot and, after several unsuccessful attempts, finally got it to pop off.  He was grateful that Batman had recently made a minor change to his Robin-suit: the tights were now footless, giving him a much better chance to complete his objective. 

            By sliding his right leg out to the side and slightly bending his knee, Robin was able to grab a small piece of broccoli with his toes.  He glanced once at Joker then used his flexibility to bring the vegetable to his mouth, shove it in and chew it as quickly and quietly as possible.  He continued doing this and became so focused that he didn’t even see Joker coming.  A shadow fell over him and he looked up, dread flitting around the edges of his blue eyes.

            Joker was sitting on a scorched chair and staring off into space while planning where to go next.  A small noise caught his attention and he glanced over at Robin.  _What is he doing?_   The villain stood up and strode over for a closer look.  The man became furious when he realized that Robin was feeding himself with his _feet._  He stopped directly in front of the boy, his fisted hands on his hips and his tall body looming over the tiny one that had started to tremble with fear.  Rage filled his face as he stared down at the boy.

            “What do you think you are doing, Robbie-boy?” he inquired in a low voice laced with both fury and malice.

            “You s..said if I could, um, get it then, uh, I could ha…have it,” Robin stuttered the sentence out fearfully.

            Joker paused and the ferocity fled from his face – the boy was right.  He frowned and realized that the sidekick, although weak and inexperienced, was smart.  With a menacing growl he stomped on every piece of untouched broccoli, grinding them into the blackened concrete and leaving a juicy green mess around Robin, whose jaw had dropped open in disbelief.

            “Don’t worry, baby bird, you can still have them if you can get them,” he sneered then went to grab his video equipment.

            Robin watched him walk away, anger replacing the terror.  He had only eaten three small pieces and now there was nothing left but little crumbles and juice.  It was impossible to pick up either of those with his toes.

            Suddenly, Joker was right in front of him again, setting up the camera and muttering to himself.  Robin’s eyes widened in horror when he caught some of the words:

            “…eating…break all his…Batsy won’t care…tiny, bloody pieces…”

* * *

            Batman had returned to the Batcave and was irritated.  The man that had been running crazily through the streets on the outskirts of Gotham was actually a tall teenager, who said “some guy” had given him money to dress up like a clown and run around the block a few times.  The police had been summoned and the kid had been taken to Headquarters.  It was a distraction, probably set up by Joker, and it had worked to perfection.  Batman knew the Clown Prince of Crime could have been there, quietly laughing while watching the scene unfold, or all the way on the other side of town beating Robin into little pieces.  He shook his head to get rid of that image and glared at the Bat-computer.  The machine had been useless all day but maybe that was just because Joker wasn’t doing anything unusual around any warehouses. 

            _BEEP. BEEP. BEEP._   The sound of the Batphone startled him and he turned toward it, his long strides quickly eating up the distance between himself and the familiar sound.

            “Yes, Commissioner?” he demanded, still frustrated by the recent events.  “Another video, already?” Batman stated in disbelief.  It had been less than twenty-four hours!  Joker was moving quickly and Batman was concerned about how the crazy man could be treating Robin.  Speedy videos could mean swift, and perhaps painful, actions.

            “I’m on my way,” he stated and slammed the phone down.  Angrily, he climbed into the Batmobile and started the engine then raced downtown and ran up the steps to the commissioner’s office again, where Chief O’Hara already had the closed-circuit television ready to play the tape.  Joker’s face was first and Batman narrowed his eyes.

            “Hello again, Batsy!” Joker crowed delightedly.  “Your baby bird and I were hungry so I had to get you out of the way.  That kid did a good job imitating me, don’t you think?” Joker giggled.  “Did you know that your little boy’s favorite food is chicken?  It’s too bad he didn’t get any, although he did ask nicely.  Not quite begging yet, but I’m sure we’ll get there soon!” Joker laughed again then became more serious.  “He is also smart – you have trained him well.  His little trick worked nicely until, of course, I heard him.  Your tiny sidekick is really flexible but I bet you already knew that.  I will definitely be taking advantage of that when I’m ready to tear him apart!”

            Batman growled and almost punched the television but knew there was going to be more so restrained himself, barely.  He briefly wondered what Robin had done to trick Joker.

            Suddenly Robin’s pale face was on the screen and Batman studied it carefully.  His partner seemed to be holding his own.  The previous tear tracks were no longer visible and the fear that had initially filled his eyes was now just a glimmer.  There was a little red handprint on both cheeks now, his hair was soaking wet and there was a faint bruise on the outside corner of his right eye.  Batman also noticed, to his surprise, a ring of darkness that resembled anger around the blue of Robin’s eyes.  He had never seen that particular emotion from his ward, though, so perhaps he was wrong.

            The camera was moved down so Batman could see the ground.  There were melting ice chips and some kind of green stuff on the floor all around his young partner.  Batman was confused.  What had happened?

            Joker put his face in front of the lens again and grinned, “So, Batsy, what do you think?  He doesn’t look too worse for wear, does he?  I’m sure you’re relieved about that but he will look a little different when we arrive at our next location.  Catch me if you can!” he laughed maniacally and panned the camera around the room, pausing for a moment on Robin’s eyes that were again full of fear but now, also, a little bit of despair.

            The video ended and Batman stalked out the door.  He recognized that basement and was furiously impressed with Joker’s audacity.  Of course the lunatic would return to the place where he had captured Robin.  It would bring back a frightening memory for Robin and let Batman know that Joker was not at all afraid of being caught, that he knew he would always be at least one step ahead. 

            Batman jumped in the Batmobile, flying through the streets to the scene of last night’s fire, which was only ten minutes away from Headquarters.  When he arrived he strode quickly into the remains of the last building that had been burning and ran down the steps to the basement.  No sign of either of them, of course, until he saw something green on the other side of the room.  Robin’s right boot was tipped on its side by the water pipes and Batman crouched down to examine the mess of green right beside it.  He instantly recognized the smell – broccoli – and the small crumbs confirmed that suspicion.  Chicken was one of Robin’s favorite foods but so was broccoli and Batman was furious that his partner had been tormented like that.  He now knew that Robin, who was a growing boy, hadn’t eaten since dinner last night.  That was a little over twenty-six hours ago. 


	6. Chapter 6

** Chapter 6: **

            Joker had knocked Robin out for the third time before untying him from the water pipe and whisking him away.  The young crime-fighter awoke when he felt water trickling steadily onto his cheek and sliding down his chin before dropping to the ground.  This time he was lying on the floor on his left side and the only things restrained were his hands, which were in handcuffs behind him.  He was groggy and, when he opened his eyes, his vision was blurry.  _I guess this is what happens when you get hit in the head multiple times._

            Joker was nearby but not paying any attention to him.  The villain was humming some sort of weird tune and drawing pictures on the cement floor with sidewalk chalk.  There was sunlight coming through a window high above them and Robin realized two things: they were finally in a warehouse and he had been unconscious all night.  The positioning of the streak of golden beams informed him that he had been asleep for most of the morning as well.  He quickly took advantage of Joker’s distracted attention by carefully turning his head to the right and looking up at the ceiling.  Quietly, he opened his mouth and allowed the slow, uninterrupted stream of water to glide down his parched throat. 

* * *

            Joker glanced at the boy; he was still out like a light.  He rolled his eyes and wondered how long it was going to take the sidekick to recover from his most recent knockout.  _I really should be more careful._   Shrugging, he grabbed some chalk and started to draw an outline on the floor of the warehouse.  Batman was going to love this one and Joker grinned in anticipation.  He wished he would be able to stick around and see the look on Batsy’s face but Big Johnny’s deal was going down tonight so he had to move one more time. 

            The villain noticed a small movement out of the corner of his right eye and turned his head.  The kid was finally awake but his eyes were cloudy and Joker shook his head.  It would be harder to have fun playing if the baby bird didn’t know what was going on.  He watched the water dribble into Robin’s mouth and decided to let him have the drink.  Maybe it would help him wake up and realize what was happening.

* * *

            Robin blinked his eyes quickly as the water slid down his throat, attempting to clear his vision, but nothing happened.  He saw a blurry blob that resembled Joker move towards him and, instinctively trying to protect himself, rolled away over his right shoulder.  He was stopped by a pointy shoe in his gut and he curled his legs into his chest with a sharp gasp of pain.  _So this is what it feels like to get kicked in the stomach._   Robin had now learned two things that would mean he was losing a fight.  Well, maybe not _losing_ but definitely in a fight with someone who had experience.  The throbbing in his ribs cleared his head and vision, though, so he tried to be grateful for that.

            Joker stood up as Robin began blinking and was surprised when the kid tried to _roll_ away from him.  He grinned, took a short step over Robin as he rolled and had his foot ready to kick when the boy finished his escape attempt.  The villain wondered if it was Robin’s first time being hit in the stomach as he thrust his foot at the sidekick’s ribs and giggled at the hoarse gasp that was ripped from Robin’s throat.  Giving the boy a little time to try to recover, Joker stepped back to his drawing and connected the final line.  His video camera was already set up but he wouldn’t let Batman see the picture until the hero arrived at the warehouse. 

            “Alright, baby bird sidekick, let’s send another message.  I need you to sit up nice and tall for me.” Joker grabbed Robin’s hair and pulled him to sitting, laughing at the small grunt of pain that produced from his captive.

            “Whoa, little one, you stink!  Don’t you ever shower?” the villain asked, his nose crinkled in disgust.  “Do you even know _how_ to shower or does Daddy Bat have to help you with that, too?”  Joker waited for a reaction and was quickly rewarded.

            “Of course I know how to shower!” Robin came close to yelling at the man.  “I’m _thirteen_!”

            “You can’t be thirteen, I don’t believe it, because teenagers actually care about how they look.  Obviously you don’t – your pretty little dress is torn, you lost one of your cute booties and…what’s up with your _hair_?!”

            Robin was glaring at the ground, anger and humiliation fighting for control in his eyes.  “The only reason I’m not looking my best,” he growled in a slightly shaky voice, “is because you have been dragging me all over the place and throwing me on dirty floors and…”

            “Not looking your best?!” Joker interrupted incredulously.  “Is that what you want to call it?”  Shaking his head, he declared, “Little one, I don’t think you _have_ a ‘best’ look.  Babies are always playing in the dirt, which you have obviously been doing.  Also, babies have no problem going around with hair that looks like a spiked rat’s nest and you don’t really seem to care about that, either.  The evidence is clear.  You.  Are.  A.  Baby.  I’m tired of arguing about this; just accept it and move on already!” Joker rolled his eyes in mock irritation but couldn’t hold back a derisive chuckle.

            “Jerk,” Robin mumbled as his cheeks grew hot.  It wasn’t his fault that he had slept on the ground with wet hair that had just been pulled hard enough to cause him to sit up.

            “What did you just say?” Joker asked in a dangerous voice. 

            _This just gets better and better.  I should have kept my mouth shut._

            “Robbie,” Joker demanded loudly, “what did you just say?” 

            Sighing, Robin tried to gather the courage to call the craziest person he had ever known a jerk to his face.  “I said,” he whispered then cleared his slightly scratchy throat and raised his voice.  “I said you’re a…a…”

            “Go on,” Joker commanded as he knelt down and lifted the boy’s chin.  His eyes locked onto those of Robin and he wrapped a strong hand around the sidekick’s neck.  Squeezing ever so slightly, he lowered his voice and said, “I’m a…?”

            “Nothing,” Robin croaked.  “I didn’t mean anything.”  He gasped as Joker squeezed harder.  “Ssssorry,” he slurred as black spots began dancing around the villain’s face.

            Abruptly the pressure stopped, although the muscular hand stayed around the small throat.  “Did you mean to say that you are a baby?” Joker snarled and started squeezing again, _much_ harder than before, when Robin didn’t immediately reply.

            Speaking was impossible; he couldn’t breathe and was beginning to panic.  Robin opened his mouth and tried to say something, anything, but the only sound he heard was the blood pounding in his ears.  Suddenly the pressure was gone again and he drew in several quick breaths.  The strong hand began to close around his throat and Robin hastily attempted to rasp out the sentence before the oxygen was cut off again.

            “I’m a…” he stopped when Joker’s hand froze mid-squeeze but quickly realized that the villain was giving him the air he needed to insult himself.  “…a baby,” he finished sadly and his throat was released as the psychotic man began howling with laughter.

            “I knew it!” Joker crowed.  “I knew Batsy had chosen a weak baby to be his sidekick!”

            His eyes on the ground again, Robin wondered if Batman really thought any of the things Joker kept talking about.  There was no rational reason to doubt his partner but the lack of oxygen, combined with the terror, had mushed everything around in his brain.  He didn’t feel rational or logical and thought that maybe Joker was right.  Maybe Batman really _was_ giving up and deciding that Robin wasn’t worth the trouble.

            There was the sound of something metal sliding across the cement and Robin looked up.  “What, uh…” he immediately trailed off when he saw Joker using the floor to sharpen a knife.

            Joker cackled wickedly when he saw Robin’s eyes widen in trepidation.  “Are you scared yet, Robbie-boy?  Don’t look so terrified, I’m not going to do anything drastic with it…yet.  After this video, Batman is going to give up on you and we will be all alone.  Nobody will be coming for you and nobody will care what happens to you.”  He carefully watched Robin’s face and saw the fear begin to dissolve into distress.  The sidekick was worried that Joker was telling the truth, that Batman really wouldn’t be coming to rescue him.  Everything the villain had planned was working perfectly. 

* * *

            Robin was shaking again – Joker was threatening him with a knife!  He began repeating a phrase over and over, trying to convince himself that Batman wouldn’t give up on him:

            _Batman will come, Batman will come, Batman will come, Batman…_  

            Suddenly, something Joker had said earlier replaced the chanting in Robin’s mind: Batman was used to working alone.  Robin didn’t know how long he had been in captivity but it felt like it had been at least a week.  Batman could have forgotten about him by now; maybe even decided that a sidekick wasn’t worth chasing the psychotic villain all over the city.  No, Batman would come for him.  Right…?

* * *

            Joker went through the speech one more time in his head and practiced the timing of the actions that Batman would see on the video.  He grinned when he saw the little sidekick’s body trembling again.  It was going to be fun when they arrived at their final destination.  Just the anticipation of pain would make the little bird beg for mercy but, because he was Joker, there would be none.

            “Ronny, get in here,” Joker shouted and Big Johnny’s son appeared from out of nowhere.  The villain rolled his eyes at the man standing before him and shaking in fear.  Did Big Johnny really want to leave his legacy to this guy?  Joker shrugged; it wasn’t his problem.  “You remember what to do?  Tell me!” he demanded.

            Ronny, terrified of Joker, slowly nodded.  “I focus on you, then on him, then I circle the warehouse and move closer to him, then I stay on both of you until the...” he trailed off when Joker interrupted him.

            “That’s enough!” Joker yelled.  “I don’t want a certain little sidekick to try to give any hints to Batsy!  What are you driving?” he barked at the trembling man.

            “I, uh, have Big Johnny’s Jaguar.  It’s his fastest one and I think I can make the delivery in about fifteen minutes,” Ronny replied.

            Mulling this information over, Joker frowned.  Fifteen minutes might be too quick.  He might not be able to complete his gift for Batman in such a short amount of time.

            “After we’re done in here, I want you to wait in the car outside for ten minutes,” Joker commanded.

            “But Big Johnny…” Ronny began but was interrupted again.

            “I don’t care about Big Johnny!” Joker shouted.  “The kid is _my_ captive and I get to decide when the videos are delivered!  You wait out there for ten minutes.  If you leave even thirty seconds early, I will hunt you down and kill you in the worst way possible.  Do you understand?!” Joker’s yell was menacing and he was managing to snarl at the same time.

            Ronny stood frozen in his spot, terror filling his face.  He nodded and Joker shoved him toward the video equipment.  Ronny somehow stayed on his feet and took his position behind the camera.

            “Ready, Robbiieee?” Joker chortled in glee as he glanced down at the panic-filled face of the sidekick.  “Let’s get this show on the road for the last time!”  He put his face in front of the camera and Ronny pressed ‘record’.


	7. Chapter 7

** Chapter 7: **

**Mid-afternoon:**

            Batman was pacing throughout the Batcave again.  Where would the crazy villain go next?  There were no clues and he had no ideas.  Robin could be anywhere and Gotham City had many places to hide.  Was Joker keeping his partner in relatively good condition or had he grown tired of being “nice”?  He was startled out of his thoughts when he again heard a very familiar beeping sound.

            “Yes, Commissioner?” Batman answered with frustration in his voice.  His eyes widened in surprise when the commissioner said there was another video.  It had only been a day and a half since Robin had been taken and there were already three videos!

            “I’m on my way,” Batman said shortly and hung up.  Maybe Joker had made a mistake with this one, although he doubted that had happened.  The man was being extra careful with his clues and was probably long gone before each video made its way to the commissioner’s office.  The hero was used to the villain’s games, although there would be a surprise twist once in a while – like kidnapping Robin.  What he didn’t understand about this chase was Joker’s motivation for moving from one place to another so rapidly.  Usually he would stay in one location for several days before sending a hint and moving on.

            Batman realized that he was at Police Headquarters and climbed out, sprinting up the stairs for the third time in less than two days.  Chief O’Hara was prepared again and the tape began to roll.

            “Batsy, Batsy, Batsy,” Joker’s greasy green hair was falling in his face as he shook his head in disappointment.  “I really thought you were smarter than this.  Your little sidekick is running out of time and, it appears, hope.”

            The camera turned away from Joker and focused on Robin, who was busy thinking about whether or not Batman cared enough to decide that he was “worth the trouble”.  The boy was so immersed in the thoughts jumping around in his brain that he didn’t even hear Joker talking.  Robin was staring at the ground and, to all three of the men watching the video, it did look like he had given up.  Joker was shouting from behind the camera, apparently trying to get the boy’s attention, and Robin suddenly flipped his head up, distress on his face.

            Trying to glare his way through the video and into wherever Robin was being held, Batman studied his young partner.  His uniform was ripped in a distinct pattern and little slices of dried blood were visible through the small slits.  Whatever had been securing him to something had been sharp enough to tear through his clothes _and_ skin.  There was a rapidly darkening bruise around Robin’s throat and Batman growled at the evidence of strangulation.  Nothing else stood out and Batman was relieved.  Robin was not uninjured, but he was alive, breathing, aware of his surroundings and not bleeding out.  He was okay…for now.

            Joker’s face appeared again and he held up a knife, examining it carefully before looking straight into the camera.  “I think you’re going to like this next game.  It’s called ‘what color is a baby bird’s blood’ and it’s going to be so much fun!  Before we start, I’ll give you your hideout clue and, like before, catch me if you can!”

            The camera panned around what was obviously a warehouse and Batman clenched his jaw in anger and apprehension.  If Joker did _anything_ to Robin with that knife, Batman would make sure the villain was in a body cast for the rest of his life.

            The lens was focused on Robin again, and it was closer than it had been before, so Batman shook himself out of those thoughts.  Joker’s back was to the camera but the hero could faintly hear the villain’s evil chuckling as he stalked towards Robin.  Batman’s eyes were glued to the screen, his hands squeezed into fists and his heart beating rapidly.  Where were they and how long ago had this video been made? 

            Joker was circling Robin now, like a vulture waiting for its meal to stop moving.  After two complete circles the crazy clown knelt down on the young crime-fighter’s left side.  Batman saw his partner’s entire body tense up as Joker ran the knife lightly down the boy’s chest before lifting it away and pointing it at Robin’s heart.  The villain glanced at the camera, yelled something that Batman didn’t quite catch and thrust the knife downward.  The three men froze in horror: they were about to watch Batman’s new partner die!  Just as the knife reached the Robin-suit, the video went black.

            Batman whipped his head around.  “What happened?!” he shouted at Chief O’Hara, who was shaking his head in both sadness and confusion.  Batman took control of the television and rewound the tape.  He turned up the volume and heard Joker screaming a number.  He rewound, turned it up and listened again, becoming frustrated that the word was virtually inaudible.  Commissioner Gordon suddenly gasped and Batman threw a glance over his right shoulder.

            “Seven eighty-two!” the commissioner exclaimed and Batman immediately knew what he was talking about.  There was only one section of warehouses in Gotham City with numbers that high and Joker was there, killing his partner, in number seven eighty-two.

* * *

**Thirty minutes earlier:**     

            Robin watched in shock as the knife sliced down toward his heart.  He had only fought one battle and his life was about to be over!  The red light on the camera turned off and the knife stopped inches from his body.  Confusion was added to the terror he was feeling and he was bewildered when Joker dropped the knife on the ground and started laughing so hard that tears began to fall down his cheeks.

            “Woooo, hahahahaha, oh, that was one of my best!” Joker declared, wiping the tears away as he started to calm down a little.  He raced to the camera, rewound the short video, carefully pulled the tape out and put it in a manila envelope.  After attaching his calling card, he glared at Ronny.

            “I’m going to come out and check on you in nine minutes,” he growled at the man.  “Remember what will happen if you aren’t there.”

            Ronny nodded, took the envelope and began backing away towards the exit.  As soon as Joker turned his attention to Robin, the man spun around and scampered out the door.  He jumped into the car, slammed the door shut and locked everything.  Not wanting to face the wrath of the maniacal clown, he put the keys on the passenger seat and waited.

            Back inside the warehouse, Joker was pushing Robin to the ground and arranging him in an awkward position.  The boy was lying on his back with his hands squished underneath him.  The bottom half of his body was twisted and his weight was on his left hip.  Joker grabbed Robin’s right leg and tossed it onto the other side of his left leg.  The young crime-fighter felt a twinge of pain as his back was forced into a position that even his acrobatic body protested.

            “Okay, baby bird, I need you to lay right here like this,” Joker commanded.  “If you move, you will regret it,” he sneered as he picked up the knife.

            Robin was back to complete terror when he saw the knife in Joker’s hand again.  _Now_ his life was ending, he was sure of it.  Thirteen years old and he was about to die.

            Joker rolled his eyes when he saw Robin’s expression.  “Oh, come _on_ , bird brain, I’m not going to kill you yet!  I just have to make sure that Batman thinks I _did_ kill you,” he grinned with malice in his eyes.  “I will need some of your blood, though, so this might sting a little.”

            The villain ran the blade down the inside of Robin’s left arm then leaned across the small torso and did the same thing on the right arm.  He waited impatiently for a few moments until there was a sufficient amount of blood on the ground for his purpose.  Putting the knife down again, he reached into the left pocket of his purple pants and pulled out a roll of clear tape.  Two lengthy strips were quickly torn off and pressed tightly onto the long but shallow wound on each of Robin’s arms, ensuring that the blood would soon stop flowing.  Grinning, Joker pictured the pain that would fill the boy’s eyes when the tape was ripped off his skin.

            Robin’s eyes were squeezed shut and he was gasping in pain.  _So this is what it feels like to get stabbed._   He had just learned another consequence of being on the losing end of a fight and decided that he was _never_ going to lose because he _never_ wanted to feel like this again.  Robin was startled and his eyes flew open when Joker roughly lifted his body off the floor and tossed him away.  He was about to land hard on his side but was athletic enough to twist his tired body around so that he landed on his stomach instead. It hurt his injured ribs, and the wind was knocked out of him, but he felt no indication of dislocated shoulders or broken arms.  The young teen assumed that he could escape easier with damaged ribs than he could with broken arms, if he could ever actually _attempt_ to escape.  It was just a guess, though, because he had no idea which one would hurt worse. 

            After flinging Robin’s body out of the way, Joker began arranging the boy’s blood in specific areas on the picture he had drawn, giggling to himself the whole time.  Batman having a sidekick was the best game he and The Bat had ever played!  The hero was smart but Joker was sure that his masterpiece would convince Batsy that his baby bird was dead.  This way Joker could take Robin away, play with him for a little while then kill him before coming back out to grab Batman’s attention again.  The villain wondered if Batman would even care.  The veteran crime-fighter had always worked alone and Joker still couldn’t understand why he would want a sidekick.  He finished “painting” then grabbed his knife from the ground, stood up and went over to Robin.

            Robin had rolled onto his back and he stared up at Joker, his eyes now filled with pain instead of fear.  He knew they weren’t going to stay here and he also knew that Joker wouldn’t be giving Batman any more hints about the location of his hideout.  This was his last chance to do something that would give his partner an opportunity to get to the warehouse before Joker made Robin disappear.  He had to stall and the only thing he could think of was to insult the psychopath.  He really didn’t want to do that but it was either take some punishment now or be killed later in a place where nobody would ever find him.  So, he took a deep breath and did his best to look irritated.

            “Where are we going now?” Robin asked, trying to sound intimidating.  Words began flying out of his mouth before he even realized what he was saying.  “No, wait, I think I might know.  You are taking me to some isolated place where you think nobody will ever find us but Batman is so much smarter than you that, even if you kill me before he gets there, he _will_ find you and make sure that you pay for all of this.” 

_Where did that come from?_   Robin wondered why he had been too scared to call the clown a “jerk” earlier but now had the courage to insult the man’s intelligence.  He realized that the sarcastic comment wasn’t his best but decided to give himself a break.  His brain, after all, _was_ whirling a little bit.  He also realized that he had run out of ideas.  He was supposed to _stall_ and the only thing he could think of to say was one measly little insult that wasn’t even very insulting!  Where was that good comment that had been swimming around in his brain since the lighthouse shack?!

            Joker, who was still standing over Robin, dropped his jaw in disbelief.  Did the kid think he could intimidate _Joker_ by threatening him?!  The villain crossed his arms in front of him, smirking while he waited to hear what else the boy was going to say.  His smirk turned into a grin when he realized that the kid had nothing else.

            “Wow, little one, that really hurt my feelings,” Joker pretended to pout while laughter danced in his eyes.  He sat down right in front of Robin, who had pushed himself up to sitting.  Crossing his legs and carefully tossing the knife from one hand to the other, Joker asked, “Is there anything else you would like to say?”  

            Robin’s eyes widened – he had known that insulting the man was a bad idea, especially since he couldn’t come up with anything good.  He squeezed his eyes shut in anticipation of pain, probably with the knife.  At least there would be a trail of blood for Batman to follow….


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For purposes of this story, the Jokermobile is a convertible. :)

** Chapter 8: **

            Robin was sitting in the shadows behind several tall stacks of boxes, his back against one of the cement poles.  The young crime-fighter was trying to hold back the tears again but not succeeding very well.  He wanted to lie down and curl his throbbing body into itself but Joker wasn’t giving him a choice.  The villain had said that his punishment for the hurtful insult would be short and practically painless because they needed to leave soon.  If this was short and painless then Robin didn’t even want to _think_ about long and painful.

            “You, baby sidekick, are growing up quickly,” Joker grinned as he cleaned his knife by wiping it across the uniform on Robin’s trembling body.  He put it away then took a piece of paper out of his back pocket, dipped his finger in the small puddle of blood in front of the boy and wrote a message for Batman.  This note would ensure that Batman would give up and Joker would have the kid all to himself.  His grin widened when he finished and stood up to find somewhere to put it.

            “I’ll be back, little one, and if you have moved at all then I will do something much more painful,” Joker growled.  It was time to check on Ronny but first he needed to tape his message on one of the boxes near his picture.

            Robin watched Joker walk around the stacks and out of view.  His hands were still cuffed behind his back but he decided to try to leave a message of his own.  Quietly, the teen maneuvered himself around until he was able to dip his shaking right finger in his own blood.  There was a loud noise when Joker pulled open the warehouse door and Robin realized that this would be his only chance.  Taking a small scoot to his left, he created his message: the letter ‘R’ and an arrow pointing to the back door, where Joker had parked the Jokermobile. 

            The young crime-fighter hoped that Batman would walk around the boxes because there was no way for him to put his message anywhere else.  However, even if his partner did search behind the stacks, the darkening shadows were going to decrease his chance of noticing the red markings.  But, it was the best Robin could do in the limited amount of time and space that he had.  Batman was thorough; he would search everywhere before giving up, including inspecting every inch of the ground.  Robin held onto that thought and began forming a plan.

            The door banged shut and Robin waited for Joker to return.  Instead, he heard the sound of metal scraping across cement and then the distinctive grunts of someone trying to lift something heavy.  Metal began clanging against metal and Robin realized that Joker was probably blocking the door.  He sighed; the villain was continuing to make it more difficult for Batman to find him.  The picture and the note would either throw his partner off or convince him that Robin couldn’t be saved, the evidence of his still-throbbing injuries was hidden and, now, the door was blocked. 

* * *

            Joker strode through the warehouse door and pounded on the window of Big Johnny’s Jaguar.  Ronny quickly rolled it down and the Clown Prince of Crime glared into the brown eyes of his messenger.

            “Get it there quickly but instead of taking it inside use this,” Joker growled.  He held up a large, helium-filled balloon with the words “Best Wishes” printed brightly on both sides.  Ronny stared at him in confusion and the villain rolled his eyes.  Grabbing the envelope from Big Johnny’s son, Joker quickly tied it to the balloon and shoved them both in the car.

            “But how, um,” Ronny’s voice was trembling, “how do you know that it won’t fly past the commissioner’s office?”

            “Because right before you let it go you’re going to call him and tell him to open his window, idiot!” Joker screamed at the man.  “Stop asking questions and go!”  The man visibly jumped, grabbed the keys off the passenger seat, started the engine and squealed away.

            After sending the man on his way, Joker turned around and re-entered the warehouse.  He stared at the open door thoughtfully, his right hand unconsciously rubbing his chin, and decided to make his nemesis work harder.  There were many bulky tables and boxes in the building so the front entrance could be heavily blocked, although it might be challenging to do it by himself.  The struggle would be worth it, however, because it would be harder for Batman to rush in and save the little sidekick that he thought was dying.  The abrupt ending of the video was going to shock the hero – the longer it took to enter the warehouse, the easier it would be for hopelessness to carve its way into the man’s soul.   So Joker began to work and realized, after awkwardly pushing three large safes up onto the short but solid metal table, that he could have – _should_ have – made the boy help.  He leaned against the table and gave himself a moment to catch his breath. 

            Shaking the slight feeling of exhaustion out of his limbs, Joker strode back to the sidekick and decided not to knock him out.  Instead, he walked in front of the boy and grabbed his upper arms, pulling him roughly up to standing.  Robin flinched noticeably but made no noise.  The villain shoved the young crime-fighter in front of him, forcing him to walk toward the back door.  Robin stumbled forward but quickly righted himself, hoping that his message would be found and the droplets of blood that he could hear splashing to the ground would be followed.

            They made it out the back door and to the Jokermobile.  Robin noticed that the vehicle’s tire tracks were visible on the west side of the car but Joker had turned it around and the teen knew they were going to go east.  Batman wouldn’t know which way to go if there were two sets of tracks.

            Joker had walked in front of Robin in order to open the back door of the Jokermobile so the boy tugged on his right glove and was relieved when he was able to quickly pull it off.  He tossed it to his right just as the villain turned around and grabbed Robin’s left arm.  As he was shoved into the back seat of the vehicle, Robin glimpsed his dark green glove lying in a patch of yellow weeds.  Batman would find it, of that he was confident.  Well, the hero would find it if the letter and arrow hadn’t merged into a single streak of red by the time he saw it.  They weren’t very far apart and Batman would definitely have to go around the boxes to see it.  His chances of rescue were slim, but at least there was a small possibility. 

            Robin suddenly realized that he would be on his own if his partner didn’t find the clues so his one plan immediately began morphing into two.  Plan A depended on Batman finding and following his trail.  Plan B required a thirteen-year-old, inexperienced crime-fighter with only a single battle under his belt to take down one of Gotham City’s most dangerous villains…by himself.  Then he realized that Plan B was actually Plan A because there was no way to know if Batman was going to continue looking for his sidekick.  Robin himself was Robin’s greatest chance to escape. 

* * *

 

**Early evening:**

            The Batmobile’s tires squealed as Batman spun around the corner of the row and headed for warehouse number seven eighty-two.  He was furious and worried and knew that Joker had cut off the video on purpose.  Not knowing what had happened was killing Batman and he slammed the Batmobile into ‘park’ when he reached seven eighty-two.

            Jumping out, he ran to the door and shoved it open – well, he tried to, anyway.  The door was blocked so he rammed it with his shoulder but it didn’t budge.  Batman retreated several yards then sprinted back and threw his entire body into the door.  He felt a sharp pain on the right side of his torso but he also felt the door give a little.  Backing up again, he flew at the door one more time and heard the recognizable ‘crack’ of an injured rib.  A small gap had opened, however, so he ignored the pain and pushed against the door with all of his strength.  The opening grew and was soon wide enough for Batman to slip through. 

            It was slightly dark, the only light was from a window high above him, so he grabbed his Bat-flashlight out of his utility belt and swung it around the room.  Boxes, large and small, were scattered around the warehouse and Batman turned west to begin his search.  Something shiny caught his eye on the floor about ten yards away and he ran, crouching to examine it upon his arrival: blood.  But that wasn’t the worst part – the blood was all over the ground in the chalk outline of a human body that was nearly the same size as Robin’s small frame.  There was no sign of his partner and Batman closed his eyes.  If Joker had killed Robin, why would he take the body?  Maybe the villain had hidden the dead body to keep Batman from going after him.  Or maybe his partner was hidden but still alive.  That knife, however, had been so close to Robin’s heart and there was so much blood.            

            “Robin!” Batman shouted as he opened his eyes and stood up.

            He realized that yelling was probably useless because, if Robin _was_ here, the boy was almost certainly unconscious.  Sweeping the room again with his Bat-flashlight, he saw something white attached to one of the nearby storage boxes.  It took him two strides to get there and he stared angrily at the piece of paper taped to a large blue box that was stacked on top of a smaller green one.  There was a message written in red and Batman immediately knew it was blood.  It was difficult to decipher the words because the streaks of crimson were sliding down the paper and dripping onto the floor but Batman got the gist of it:

            YO R   BA Y   BIR   IS   G N   F RE  R. 

            T E   JOK  S   ON    O !

            “He is _not_ gone forever and the joke will be on _you_!”  Batman roared as he shoved the blue box in fury.

            The Caped Crusader watched it fall away from him, flip over itself and heard it land with a thud followed by a quiet splash.  _A splash?!_   Batman stepped over the short green box and crouched down next to the blue one.  It was resting on another splotch of something shiny and he slid the box out of the way.  A pool of blood and, his eyes widened, a crooked letter ‘R’ with an arrow pointing north.  That direction led to the back door and Batman felt a glimmer of hope rise in his chest.  Robin was still alive!  His young partner, on only his fourth day as a crime-fighter, had been composed enough to leave Batman a clue!  There were little drops of red going in that direction and Batman growled softly as a thought rolled through his mind.  Robin was alive but bloody enough to leave a message using _his own blood_.  There had also been enough for Joker’s message, a trail and the pool upon which Batman’s left hand was inadvertently resting.  One thought began pulsing in Batman’s brain: Joker was _really_ going to regret kidnapping and hurting Robin.

* * *

            Big Johnny, for only the third time since Ronny had joined the family business, was proud of his son.  The young man had made a copy of the videotape before delivering it to Police Headquarters.  Big Johnny had just finished watching that video and was impressed with Joker’s ingenuity.  Batman would figure out where his sidekick was being held and go there to save his life, allowing Big Johnny to easily cement the deal with Randy on the other side of town. 

            The mob boss was surprised at the lack of blood on the kid’s body – Joker usually toyed with his captives right away.  But he quickly realized that blood leaves a trail that can be followed and the insane clown wanted to keep Batman guessing.  Big Johnny smiled; he had chosen the right villain for the job and allowing Joker to keep the boy after he was no longer needed had been a good decision.  Losing a sidekick right after bringing him into the world of crime-fighting would be a big blow to Batman.

            Big Johnny was sure that he would be able to complete several deals in the next couple of weeks.  That’s at least how long it would take for a good guy to get over a loss like this.  It was even possible that Batman wouldn’t be as strong when he did return!  The hero was going to feel responsible for the death of his brand-new little sidekick and would never fully recover.

            “Sir?” Ronny came in, Jake trailing behind him and looking bored.

            “What!” Big Johnny snapped, annoyed that his wonderful thoughts had been so abruptly interrupted, even though it was by his own son.

            “Uh, the car is, um, ready,” Ronny replied weakly while Jake smirked at his boss behind Ronny’s back.

            The mobster sighed at his offspring’s apparent inability to be a strong leader.  Did he really want to leave his legacy to _Ronny_?  Big Johnny shook his head and stood up.

            “Let’s go, boys,” he demanded loudly and they left the mansion, heading for the car that would take them to the pre-determined location of the deal with Turino.  This was an important event and Big Johnny was feeling confident.  Everything was going to be perfect because Batman wouldn’t be around to disturb them. 

            Big Johnny decided that he should send Joker a thank you card when this was all over.  The villain was doing an excellent job.  Maybe he would even send him a basket of “toys” for the man’s future crimes.  Big Johnny shook his head.  The kid was a good toy so a card would suffice. 

            Jake opened the back door and waited for his boss to climb in.  Ronny was already in the driver’s seat and Jake climbed in next to Big Johnny.  He was surprised to see JT in the front passenger seat and glanced sideways at his boss.

            “Out,” Big Johnny growled and JT flinched but didn’t move out of the seat.

            “I want the kid, boss,” JT growled back and Jake rolled his eyes behind his dark sunglasses.  The sidekick had hurt JT’s pride and the man wanted to repay the favor.

            Snarling, Big Johnny replied, “Joker gets to keep him so you’ll have to find and talk to him about that.  Now get out of the car!” he shouted and this time JT obeyed. 

            Before closing the door, JT leaned his head in for a final question.  “When I find him, can I kill him?” the man inquired with malice in his tone.

            “Which one?” Big Johnny answered.

            “Definitely the sidekick but, if he gets in my way, Joker.”

            “I don’t care about the boy,” the mobster sighed in frustration.  They were supposed to be leaving, not arguing about a _sidekick_.  “Joker, however, is valuable so leave him alone.”

            JT was disappointed but nodded and his head disappeared.  The door slammed shut and Jake chuckled in his head.  There was no way JT was going to get the kid away from _Joker_.  The villain was insane and wouldn’t hesitate to kill if the man tried to take the sidekick by force.

            Jake glanced at his boss again.  “JT’s not going to win if he…”

            “I know,” Big Johnny quickly interrupted, “but I’d rather lose him than Joker.  JT is a good fighter but he was beaten by a _boy_.  Joker looks like he’s doing fine with that same boy.  I never really liked the big man that much, anyway.”

            Jake leaned back against his seat with a grin.  He had always wanted to take out the arrogant JT but didn’t mind if Joker did it for him.

* * *

              Batman stood up and strode quickly toward the exit in the back of the warehouse, following Robin’s arrow and his unintentional trail of blood.  The drops of red ended at a line of tire tracks that ran both east and west.  There was no way to know which way they had gone and Batman was frustrated.  Joker had left evidence of Robin’s “death” so there would be no more videos, no more clues and – sometime in the next few days – no more Robin.

            Crossing his arms, Batman glared at the ground and tried to get inside the head of a crazy man who loved bombs and knives and taunts.  He glimpsed something out of the corner of his eye and, when he looked over, was surprised to see a small green glove lying in a clump of yellow weeds off to his right – to the east.  So, Robin had been conscious when they left and had been able to give Batman another clue.  He briefly wondered if Joker had seen it and, if he had, what type of pain Robin had gone through as punishment.  He shook his head to push that thought away and ran back through the warehouse to the Batmobile.  Now that he knew which way to go, the tracks left by the tires on Joker’s vehicle would be easy to follow on the dirt road.

            Batman drove as quickly as he could without losing the tracks or whizzing past a side road.  He was about ten minutes from the warehouse when the tracks faded into nothingness.  A light storm was approaching and the wind was picking up.  The road only led east, though, so Batman didn’t have to worry about going the wrong way.

            Twenty minutes later, however, the Batmobile slammed to a stop when the hero realized he had to make a decision: stay straight or turn right.  The road to the right looked exactly the same as the road he was on and he didn’t know which way to go.  He, _the protector of Gotham City_ , didn’t know what was down a side road off to the right of an unused dirt road behind a generic warehouse somewhere on the west side of the city.  When Robin was safely back in the Batcave, Batman was going to study and memorize a _very_ detailed map of all the streets and roads in and around Gotham City.  This could be the difference between Robin’s life and death.  Batman couldn’t afford to make a mistake as time-consuming as taking the wrong road.

            He sat there and stared at the road in front of him, glanced to his right then looked straight again.  How was he going to decide?  The last ray of sunlight was reflecting off of something near the edge of the road in front of him, approximately fifteen yards away.  He got out of the Batmobile and ran to examine it.  He was astonished when he arrived at the source of the flickering light – the buckle on Robin’s utility belt!  His partner was still alert enough to leave clues!  Picking up the belt, he raced back to the Batmobile, tossed it on the passenger seat as he got in and smiled slightly.  He was going to choose the road in front of him even though less than a minute ago he had been leaning towards turning right.

* * *

            Joker kept glancing at Robin in the rearview mirror.  The kid was moving around a lot but Joker knew the sidekick wouldn’t be able to get out of the handcuffs.  He shrugged and remembered that it was most likely the baby bird’s first time being kidnapped so he wouldn’t know that getting out of handcuffs was nearly impossible.  Unless, of course, he had a utility belt….

            Joker’s eyes widened in shock: he hadn’t even noticed if the little sidekick had a utility belt!  He slammed to a stop and got out of the Jokermobile.  A kid-sized utility belt would still have useful tools for escaping from difficult situations.  Joker needed to be sure that his captive couldn’t get away.

* * *

            Robin had managed to get his arms in front of his body and was working on unhooking his utility belt.  If he could get it off and toss it out of the car then Batman would have another clue to follow.  First, though, he had to locate and grab his Bat-pick so he could open the cuffs that were biting into his wrists.  He finally found it and pushed it tightly into the palm of his right hand. 

            The car unexpectedly stopped and Robin was tossed roughly around in the backseat.  It was painful but helpful – his utility belt was now falling off his waist and he was able to easily grab it with his left hand.  There was, however, a negative result: he heard a quiet ‘ping’ as the Bat-pick flew from his right hand and lodged itself into a crack between the front seat and the back door.

            Joker, for some reason, had exited the car and was turning toward that same door.  Robin panicked; he didn’t want the villain to see a clue for Batman being thrown out the window!  He flipped his right leg over his head and, using his toes, pushed the lock down on the door that Joker was about to open.  That would buy him at least ten seconds and he sat up, gripping his utility belt tightly in both hands.  Hoping that Joker was too distracted to notice, Robin flung it out the window as far as he could with hands that were stuck together.

* * *

            Joker started to open the door by Robin’s head but saw a flash of something and heard the ‘click’ of a lock.  He growled, grabbed a bobby pin out of his mop of wind-blown hair and easily picked the lock and opened the door.  The boy was just lying there in the backseat, staring up at Joker with no emotion showing in his eyes.  Joker stuck his torso in the car and saw that, unlike the Big Bad Bat, the little baby bird had no utility belt around his tiny waist.

            “I’m a villain, I know how to pick locks,” Joker whispered dangerously.  “Don’t ever try that again because next time I will do more than just _threaten_ you with bodily harm.”  He pulled his body out of the car, climbed in the driver’s seat and they were off again.

            Robin stared at the bottom of Joker’s seat, searching for the one Bat-tool he had removed before tossing his safety net out the window.  He couldn’t find it and a feeling of hopelessness washed over him.  Continuing to flick his eyes from the front seat to the door, just in case he had missed it, Robin began to try and amend his plan.  The cuffs wouldn’t come off without his Bat-pick, though, and that had been a major part of his strategy.  Plan A – formerly Plan B – already had a lot of holes in it and now a big one had just been added.


	9. Chapter 9

** Chapter 9: **

            Robin felt the car turning left and sighed.  What could he throw out this time and how could he prevent Joker from seeing him do it?  Maybe if he sat up and acted like he was stretching he would be able to toss something out of the now-open top of the Jokermobile.  It was worth a shot; all that could happen would be more punishment or sending Batman the wrong way if Joker moved the clue.  But, again, that was better than being dead in two or three days without even giving his partner a chance to find him.  Was Batman even following them or had he believed Joker’s death scene?  If his partner had given up on him, Robin had wasted a good chance to get himself out of this mess when he had thrown his utility belt out the window.

_I’m such a great crime-fighter: I fell for a trap, I cried like a baby, I idiotically threw my safety net out the window and now I’m trying to find a way to leave another clue for somebody who has probably already gone back to the Batcave and forgotten all about me!_

            Robin decided to leave the clue anyway, even if nobody was following them.  He slowly pulled his glove off his left hand then quickly sat up and threw his arms above his head, flicking his wrists at the apex of his stretch.  There was no way to tell where it had landed; the only thing Robin could do was hope that it would be easily noticeable.

            The young teen had just barely been able to get his glove out of the Jokermobile when he was suddenly shoved roughly down.  His head hit the door, making him dizzy, and he rolled onto the floor.  He landed on his left side and his body, even though it was small, became trapped between the front and back seats.  His ribs were crushing against his spine, his lungs were fighting each other for the top spot in his chest and his cuffed hands were at an awkward angle under the front seat.  He was stuck and had no way to help himself.  There would be no more clues and Robin realized that, even if Batman was following them, he was going to die.

            The crazy villain hadn’t seen the glove fly out of his Jokermobile so Robin, although squished, was safe from any of his wrath for now.  The dirt road had become slightly rocky and being stuck between seats on the floor of the car was painful.  He couldn’t breathe at all every time they hit a larger bump and was struggling to breathe normally in between those bounces.  Robin felt himself starting to panic and that made him begin to hyperventilate, which didn’t improve his situation.  He tried to calm himself down but not being able to breathe so often was scary and he was beginning to see colorful spots dancing in front of his eyes. 

* * *

            Joker glanced in the rearview mirror and saw the sidekick sit up and stretch. Slamming the car to a stop again, he twisted his torso to the right and glared back at the boy. Using both arms, he shoved the little baby bird back onto the seat and grinned when Robin's head hit the door. The impact tossed the kid onto the floor and Joker turned back toward the road that led to the ocean.

            A few minutes later the villain heard gasping and he cackled - the baby bird was having difficulty breathing. The gap between the front and back seats was narrow and Joker guessed, correctly, that the boy was stuck. His final hideout came into view and Joker pushed the brake pedal down hard again. There was a cry of pain along with a quiet cracking sound. The little boy had his first fracture or break as a sidekick – the Clown Prince of Crime was helping the kid go through a lot of firsts

            Grinning, Joker opened his door and jumped out then walked to the building and went inside. He was going to let the kid stay in the car for a while to try to cause the fear to overwhelm him. The baby sidekick was going to beg for something soon and the villain couldn't wait to hear the whining and see the tears again.

* * *

            Robin didn’t know it but Batman had definitely _not_ forgotten about him.  The Caped Crusader knew that his partner was probably discouraged, scared and wondering if Batman believed he was dead.

_This is entirely my fault.  If I had just taken Robin home before going after Joker, none of this would have happened._

            There was another fork in the road and Batman pounded the steering wheel in frustration.  He had three choices this time and there would be no utility belt shining in the sunlight to let him know which way to go.  Robin still had a glove and a boot but it was completely dark and there was a lot of green shrubbery around the area.  Batman knew it would take time to find the clue, if Robin had even been able to leave one. The older half of the Dynamic Duo was stuck and almost felt like crying himself.

            Batman exited the Batmobile, grabbed his Bat-flashlight and shined it briefly down all three lanes.  Nothing stood out and he began jogging down each road, sweeping the light from side to side and carefully searching for anything to help him.  He went right first and, after fifty yards, saw nothing unusual.  Racing back to the Batmobile, he went straight but again found nothing out of the ordinary.  Going left was his last chance for a clue and, if there was nothing again, he would have to choose on his own.  He was wasting so much time – it had already been nearly an hour – and he was disappointed in himself.  Robin needed him, and had even been helping him, but now Batman didn’t know where to go.  He ran left, searching as carefully and quickly as he had the other ways, and found nothing.  Putting his hands on his knees, the veteran crime-fighter dropped his head to catch his breath.  He was failing Robin, who trusted him, and he realized that he should have tried harder to keep his ward away from discovering the Batcave a year and a half ago.   

            The beam of the Bat-flashlight was pointing down and Batman noticed some markings in the dirt.  He crouched to get a better look: tire tracks, maybe, that swerved left and then straightened out again.  But it was still slightly windy and the dust twirling at his feet was making pictures on the road.  Deciding to take a chance, he stood up and strode toward the left side of the road.  Immediately he saw it – Robin had somehow done it again!  The second small green glove was stuck on the side of a green bush.  Batman turned around and sprinted back to the Batmobile.  He knew from the probable tire tracks that Joker would have seen something and Robin either had, or was going to, pay a price.

* * *

            Big Johnny waited impatiently in the car with Ronny and Jake.  They were in the lowest level of a parking garage on the eastern outskirts of Gotham City.  Randy hadn’t shown up yet and the meeting had been set for half an hour ago.  If the small-time mob boss was trying to double-cross Big Johnny there would be severe consequences. 

            A silver car suddenly came flying around the corner and screeched to a stop just before crashing into Jake’s side of Big Johnny’s long, black car.  A tall, fat man with a jagged scar that ran from his right ear to his chin jumped out and started pounding on the window next to Jake, who glanced at his boss with a question in his eyes.  Big Johnny narrowed his eyes in thought then nodded slightly.  Jake took out his gun, rolled down the window and pointed it at the man’s head.

            Casting a quick glare in Jake’s direction, the man turned his attention to Big Johnny.  “Randy sends his regrets and asks that you meet him tomorrow at the same time and place.”  The words rushed out of the beefy mouth and the man paused, apparently waiting for an answer.

            “Why?” Big Johnny snarled, disapproval evident in his tone.

            “He’s having some in-company problems,” the man’s eyes flashed dangerously, “and has to take care of them before…”

            “Alright, I get it,” Big Johnny growled this time.  He recognized the meaning of the sentence so he waved the man away.  “Tell him I agree but if he isn’t here tomorrow then the deal is off and he will be receiving repercussions.”

            The big man nodded and quickly got back into his car.  He was gone in less than thirty seconds and Big Johnny sighed.  He would have felt safer if it was done tonight.  Hopefully Batman was still on Joker’s tail or in the Batcave, beating himself up because of the death of his new sidekick.

            It was Jake’s voice that interrupted the mobster’s thoughts this time.  “Randy doesn’t care who joins him, does he?” he asked rhetorically.  “I wonder how many moles got in this time.”  Jake shook his head – Big Johnny would never let a spy get past him.

            “Randy’s an idiot,” Big Johnny replied.  “But, he’s also useful.  Let him keep digging himself a hole by letting moles in and soon we’ll be taking his territory while he goes away to rot in prison.”  The mob boss grinned and Jake nodded in agreement.

* * *

            The Jokermobile jerked to a stop and Robin felt a sharp pain in his chest.  He couldn’t move anything except his fingers and those were being crushed under the front seat.  There was no way he could release himself so he waited for Joker to open the back door and somehow get his small body off the floor and out of the car.  Nothing happened.  Was the villain just going to leave him here, let him die in the car?  That might be a good thing, though, because it would mean he wouldn’t have to go through any more pain.  Robin wished he had followed Batman’s instructions and stayed in the Batmobile because now there was nothing he could do to help himself.

            The young crime-fighter decided to focus on his breathing.  Staring at the darkness that was the underside of the front seat, he counted each breath and slowly began to calm down.  Then he saw it.  There it was, his Bat-pick that he had assumed was lost forever, right in front of his nose.  Instinctively pushing the back of his head hard against the back seat in order to tilt his face up, he stretched out his tongue as far as he could.  Flicking it back and forth like a snake, Robin attempted to roll the tiny tool toward him.  But he couldn’t reach it.  It was less than two inches in front of his face and he couldn’t get to it.

            Robin briefly thought about giving up but quickly realized that Batman wouldn’t give up, Batman would somehow be able to get it.  Robin was Batman’s sidekick and he wasn’t about to disappoint the man – he was going to find a way.  It took several minutes for the thought to assert itself in his mind but when it came his eyes widened in both hope and hesitation.  If it didn’t work he would just be adding another injury for no good reason.  But, again, better to try….

            His ribs were squished against the console between the two front seats. Sucking in his stomach, Robin pulled his aching ribs up toward his aching lungs and arched them over the closest metal bracket of the driver's side chair. He mentally shook his head; there was no way this was going to work. Contracting his abs, he forced his ribs to attach themselves to the opposite side of the black support rod and heard another, louder 'crack' on the left side of his body. This one was _much_ more painful than the previous one and fireworks exploded in his mind. However, the action had produced a miniscule movement: it had pulled his upper body toward the back door by his head. The change was so minute that he didn't even feel it, especially since the bright bursts of fire were just barely beginning to fade away.

            Short, continual flashes of stars were racing around in Robin’s brain as he attempted to focus on his objective.  The pain stayed, the idea returned and he mentally sighed.  It had been a desperate attempt that had only succeeded in causing another rib to crack or break and now his ribcage was stuck on the metal bracket. It was getting really hard to breathe without full lung capacity, which was being shortened by the arch in his ribs.

            Robin was seeing spots again but he tilted his head back and decided to try one last time.  He had no other ideas and was pretty sure that he wasn’t going to be awake for much longer.  He was probably out of time anyway.  Joker wouldn’t stay away for too long; he wanted to do things with that knife that the young crime-fighter didn’t even want to think about.  So he stretched his tongue out again and was astonished when it rolled over the metallic Bat-pick.  It had actually worked!  Using the back of his tongue, he pushed the tiny rod toward his mouth and grabbed it with his teeth, pulling it in as the Jokermobile’s back door was jerked open.  The crazy face of Joker stared down at him, laughter shining through the evil darkness in his eyes, and Robin felt the now-familiar feeling of terror ripple through his body.

* * *

            Joker threw open the back door of the Jokermobile and grinned down at the pale face that was filled with terror again.  Then he frowned; how was he going to get the sidekick out of here?  He grabbed the kid’s hair and pulled but that was ineffective, although it did bring a cry of pain.  He tried to maneuver his hands under the baby bird’s armpits to pull him out but the kid was too crushed and Joker couldn’t even get his fingers in there.  Thinking carefully, he strolled around the Jokermobile, stopping on the other side as an idea came into his mind.  He opened the back door by the sidekick’s feet, grabbed both ankles and pulled as hard as he could.  A cry of agony was ripped from the boy’s mouth and Joker felt his body move a little bit.  The kid got stuck a couple of times – and once Joker heard him gasping for air – but he continued pulling until the small body flew out of the car and landed hard on the rocks.

* * *

            Robin watched Joker walk away and wondered if he was leaving again.  He heard a noise by his feet and suddenly knew what was about to happen.  There was no time to do anything but suck in his stomach again and hope that his ribcage wouldn’t be shoved up into his lungs.  Joker’s slimy hands were on his ankles now and pulling hard.  Robin’s squished body protested the rough movements, his ribs crunched together and he cried out in agony.  The jerking motion increased and the teenager attempted to wiggle his ribs off the metal bracket.  It finally worked and his body began slithering through the seats toward the insane man.  Blood began leaking from the wounds on his torso and bones began grinding against each other.

            Suddenly he was choking – his cape was wrapped around the bottom of the passenger seat and now he _really_ couldn’t breathe.  There was a loud ripping sound and Robin’s cape was torn in half as he was flung out of the car and onto the rocky surface of the ground.  His head hit a small rock and a slow stream of blood began trickling from the thin gash.  That was the last straw – everything went dark as the pain flying throughout his entire body was suddenly joined by a slight bump on the back of his head.  His last conscious thought was an instruction that he screamed in his mind.  Obediently, his brain sent the required signals and the Bat-pick was carefully tucked securely under his tongue.

* * *

            _Again?!_   Joker was frustrated that the kid was knocked out for the fourth time.  The baby sidekick had a soft head but it didn’t really matter now because he would be dead in a couple of days anyway.  The villain grabbed the boy by what was left of his shiny golden cape and dragged him across the uneven rocks to the one place that Batman wouldn’t think to look, if he was still even trying to find his little bird.

* * *

**One hour later:**

            The next time Robin awoke he was lying on his stomach with his right cheek on a rough, cold, metallic floor. His hands were still tightly secured and had been returned to their original position behind his back. Heat was radiating from something directly above him and he had a headache that felt like someone was hammering a nail into his brain. He didn't want to open his eyes but did anyway and found himself looking at a pair of familiar purple shoes. They were next to a large, cracked-in-several-places window. There was nothing else to see but a black sky with blurs of small glowing lights that Robin assumed to be stars

            Rolling over his right shoulder onto his back, he found the source of the heat – he was underneath a large light that was continuously rotating in a circle. What kind of light...? Realization dawned – they were back where they had started only this time they were in the lighthouse instead of the shack. The pounding of the nail increased in speed and Robin allowed a slight groan to escape his dry throat.

            He had forgotten about the hunger because of all the other pain but it suddenly came back with a vengeance and a cramp began to form in his left side.  It was an ache that he didn’t recognize – he had never gone without food for so long – and he tried to ignore it.  There were so many other injuries to catalog, like Batman had taught him, so he began making a list: headache, bruises all over, ribs throbbing – some of them probably broken, several knife wounds scattered around his torso, blood dribbling gently from his wrists under the handcuffs, a sore throat and one long but shallow gash on each arm – still covered by the clear tape.  The back of his head felt sticky against the floor so he assumed there was a bloody wound there, too.  It was probably the source of his agonizing headache.  He also felt something under his tongue and wondered why there was some sort of cylindrical rod there.

            Joker was leaning against the western wall of the round lighthouse, watching the little sidekick open his eyes and take stock of his situation.  He quietly giggled when he saw recognition glide through the slightly unfocused baby blues.  So, the tiny bird knew where they were and had probably realized that there was no way to escape.  Grabbing his knife off the windowsill, the villain strode over to the boy and loomed over the small body.

            “Welcome back, Robbie-boy,” Joker grinned menacingly and watched as the kid’s eyes widened at the sight of the knife.  “It’s time to have some real fun, since nobody thinks you’re alive anymore.  Batman probably doesn’t even remember you by now.”

            Robin stared up at the large frame of Joker.  A faint memory of a plan danced around the edges of his mind and he realized that the metal under his tongue was actually a Bat-pick.  The puzzle pieces of Plan B – or was it Plan A? – slowly came together.  There were still gaps in his strategy but one of them would be filled if he could work out a way to use the idea that had just floated into his aching brain. 

            The villain had circled Robin’s body during his little speech and was now back where he started.  Robin engaged his abs, trying to ignore the intense pain the movement brought to his entire torso, and waited.  The man had to be in exactly the right spot or Robin’s attempt would be in vain.

* * *

             Joker stalked around the sidekick’s body, his knife grasped tightly in his right hand.  He saw the boy tense and laughed, delightful anticipation coursing through his veins.  Kneeling down by Robin’s ribcage, he held up the knife and glared down at the kid.

            “I’m going to give you a choice, something I don’t usually do for my victims.  You, however, are a very _special_ victim so I’ll be nice for thirty seconds while you choose.  Your first option: I start at the top of your body.  Your second one: I start at the bottom of your body.  What is your decision?  One, two, three…” Joker began counting the thirty seconds and saw tears shining in the boy’s eyes again.

            Robin’s eyes began to water but he had made a promise to himself so he forced the moisture to recede.  “How about if, um, if you just don’t…just don’t start?” his shaky voice was laced with apprehension and the Bat-pick was sliding around under his tongue.  The hidden tool caused a slight lisp in Robin’s words and he hoped that the evil man wouldn’t hear it.  He tried to glare at the villain but a flash of fear raced through his eyes, betraying his attempt to be brave, and he gave up on the glare.  “Please?” he whispered as terror took over and dread filled every inch of his eyes.

            Joker, who had already landed on the number fifteen, suddenly began laughing hysterically.  “Wow, that was another good one!  Are you sure you don’t want to become my sidekick?  You can get back at Batman for leaving you to die a horrible death!  That would be fun, right?”  The lisp didn’t escape the villain’s notice but he dismissed it as a side effect of the fear filling the little sidekick’s tiny voice.

            A dark ring of anger suddenly surrounded his panicked eyes and, with his voice a little stronger, Robin replied, “I will _never_ join you and I would _never_ do anything to hurt Batman!”

            Joker had become distracted during the short conversation; Robin saw the opportunity and took it.  Twisting his hips to the right, he threw his legs up, hoping they would land somewhere that would cause pain.  He was surprised when his shin bones smacked Joker on the right side of the head, sending the villain’s body toppling left toward the railing of the steep stairs.  Joker looked at the railing in surprise as his forehead slammed into the black metal.  The impact reversed the direction of his head and he was pushed onto his back, completely knocked out. 

            Robin was shocked but quickly pulled himself out of his stupor and painfully pulled his legs up to his chest. The movement sent a group of black clouds spinning around in his brain, nearly overwhelming him in their efforts to fill every inch of his mind. Clenching his jaw and gasping in pain, he forced himself to stay awake as he slipped his legs through the circle that was the result of his cuffed hands, rolled onto his stomach and pushed himself up to his knees. He was unsteady and couldn't stand up without support so he shuffled over to the end of the railing, draped his wrists over the top and pulled his body up to standing.

            He opened his mouth to grab the Bat-pick but Joker moaned and Robin decided to get away from the villain before releasing his wrists. It was a stupid decision, he realized, when he took a step toward the first stair and misjudged the height. He stumbled and his body started rolling down the steep, curved staircase. With his arms still secured tightly there was no way to stop himself so he closed his eyes and let it happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, attempting to pull yourself forward using just your ribs is probably not a great idea and also probably wouldn't work anyway. Please don't try it at home. Or in your car. Or anywhere.


	10. Chapter 10

** Chapter 10: **

            Robin heard a loud ‘crack’ and felt a burning pain in his left arm when he finally flew off the last step and landed hard on the dirt-covered cement floor.  The wind was knocked out of him and he struggled to pull air into his lungs.  He was getting tired of having to try so hard to breathe.  The agonizing tumble down the long staircase had negated the progress he had made upstairs: somehow his arms were behind him again. 

_How, just…HOW?!_   The thought was forced from his mind when he heard a new noise, one that sent a violent shudder down his entire body.  If he were actually able to escape this situation, Robin knew the sound would keep him awake at night and haunt his dreams.

            Laughter – crazy, diabolical laughter that ripped through the air as the brightness in the lighthouse disappeared.  Joker was awake and Robin knew it wouldn’t be long before he would be racing down the stairs.  It would be more difficult for Robin to escape in the dark, but it would also be more difficult for Joker to find him.

            The young crime-fighter rolled over himself twice and his back hit the wall by the lighthouse door.  His entire body protested the movements when he sat up and leaned against the wall but he didn’t have a choice.  Gritting his teeth and clenching his jaw against the pain, Robin bent his knees and planted his feet firmly on the cement.  Shoving his back and arms against the rough brick, he pushed himself up and finally made it to standing.  Blood began dripping from the fresh scrapes on the backs of his arms, things were going in and out of focus and he was swaying slightly.  _But I’m alive and there’s a long staircase between us._

            Robin rested his head against the wall to catch his breath but panicked when he heard the distinctive sound of hard-soled shoes on metal.  Turning to his right, he shoved his right shoulder against the rotting wood of the door and almost tumbled onto the ground again when it opened easily.  There was a sharp pain in his left side that made him realize he hadn’t been quick enough and he looked down.  A quiet cry of distress fled his parched throat: Joker’s knife had sliced his torso on its way to embedding itself into the door.  Robin’s legs buckled but he fought to stay upright when he heard an eerie voice calling to him:

            “Robbiiieee, oh Robbie-boy.  Come out, come out and we’ll have some fun!”

            _Sure, I’ll wait right here!_   The sarcastic sentence almost flew out of his mouth and Robin was annoyed with himself.  Calling out to _Joker_ would have been really stupid and he briefly wondered why he had nearly done so.  Glancing down again, Robin decided that there was nothing he could do about the new injury.  He knew how to wrap a bloody wound but didn’t have time to figure out how to do it with his arms still cuffed behind his back – one of them broken – and half a cape.  

            Another idea formed in his tired mind and Robin grabbed the handle of the bloody knife.  Two short tugs and it was out of the wood and in his right hand.  Unsteadily, he took a step away from the door and moved into the darker shadow of the lighthouse.  He stood there, facing the ocean with his back to the door, and waited.  

* * *

            Joker pushed his left hand against his bloody, aching forehead as he stood up in front of the revolving light.  The kid was smart and quick and Joker was impressed that the sidekick had taken him out so easily.  No, he frowned, not impressed.  He was infuriated!  A mere _boy_ shouldn’t be able to knock out THE Joker!  The villain briefly considered the thought that perhaps he had underestimated his captive.  Shaking his head at that theory – the kid was only thirteen – Joker decided it had been beginner’s luck and a large dose of adrenaline.  That, however, could only last for so long; the new sidekick had to be close to giving up.

            A piece of the metal railing had been knocked onto the floor and Joker decided to make the game more difficult.  With a purely evil laugh, he grabbed the black rod and swung it as hard as he could against the bright bulb of the lighthouse.  The glass shattered, almost masking the ‘thud’ of something hitting the ground below him.  Joker immediately began descending the stairs, the soles of his shoes striking the metal in a rhythmic pattern.  Quickly rounding corner after corner of the long, spiral staircase, he was startled when he suddenly heard the crackling sound of splintering wood and glimpsed a small body leaning heavily against the rotting door of the lighthouse.

            Astonished at the kid’s strength and speed, Joker tightened his grip on the knife in his right hand and stopped so hastily that his feet almost slid out from under him.  He didn’t have time to aim so he just threw the knife in the boy’s general direction, hoping that it would at least slice some part of the annoying sidekick’s body.  There was a short cry of pain and the villain grinned as he resumed his descent, calling out as he did so:

            “Robbiiieee, oh Robbie-boy.  Come out, come out and we’ll have some fun!” 

* * *

            Robin waited.  His breathing was shallow, his legs were shaking with the effort of trying to hold up his small body and his cuffed hands were trembling and struggling to hold onto the knife.  Still, he waited. 

            The metallic sound had stopped and the footsteps were now pounding across the cement.  Robin could hear the ‘whoosh’ of the dust as it was thrown off the floor with each of the villain’s long strides.  His brain was yelling at him to run but he forced himself to stay.  Attempting to take down Joker was his only option.  Unless he wanted to die…which he didn’t.

* * *

            Joker stomped across the cement floor, his hands clenched into fists and his eyes dark with rage.  A shiny spot on the wall caught his eye as he neared the open door.  It was probably blood but he didn’t stop to check.  He was surprised that the sidekick’s body wasn’t limp on the floor; maybe it had rolled out the door.  There was nothing unusual in the doorway so he stepped outside, right into the pointy end of his own knife.  He looked down in shock: the little bird had just _stabbed_ him in the gut!  Joker dropped to his knees, the white-hot pain in his stomach preventing him from feeling his bones connect with the hard ground.

* * *

            The man was close, Robin could hear his breathing.  The sound was short, as if Joker was silently giggling.  The teenager could feel the slimy skin crawling toward him…or maybe he was imagining that.  Now it felt like a screw was slowly being tightened into his head and he wanted to pass out.  That thought fled away as adrenaline rushed in: Joker was outside and Robin pushed the knife back as hard as he could.  There was a quiet grunt and the knife was pulled away from Robin’s reach as Joker dropped to the ground.  There was no “next step” in the plan, his action was automatic.  Whirling around, Robin swung his right leg toward the wall of the lighthouse and was relieved that it hit Joker’s head before it could slam into the brick of the tall building.  The mop of green hair was sent into the wall instead and suddenly the villain lay crumpled in a heap at Robin’s feet.

            Robin widened his eyes – he had just knocked out Joker for the second time!  Exhausted, he leaned against the cool brick and allowed himself a moment to rest.  He closed his eyes but they popped right back open, panic racing through them, when he heard a feeble moan.  Then he realized that the sound had come out of his own mouth and he marginally relaxed.  He shouldn’t stay here; he needed to get away from the pile of limbs below him.  It would be easier to escape with his hands free, though, so he decided to risk Joker waking up in order to release his wrists.

            Fatigue was setting in and trying to get his arms in front of him again would be difficult.  Sifting through the various options in his mind, Robin decided to take the quickest route.  Hopefully he would be able to stand back up.  It was going to hurt, there was no doubt about that, but it was also necessary so he took a deep breath and turned to face the lighthouse.  His leg muscles wanted to collapse but he forced them to contract as he rolled down onto his back.  The broken arm wasn’t doing anything to help and Robin’s left leg didn’t make it through the circle of his arms.  His momentum was stalled and, instead of rolling right back up to his feet, the young crime-fighter was stuck on his back with his knees up against his chin.

            Frustrated, Robin screamed at the night sky before leaning left and putting all his weight on the broken arm.  Fiery sparks exploded in his mind but now he had enough room to easily slide his right leg out.  Fighting to stay awake, Robin struggled with his left leg.  No matter how hard he pushed it or which way he moved it, the limb refused to do anything other than inch toward freedom.  Irritated with his aching body, he didn’t allow it to rest when the leg was finally out.  Instead, he shifted onto his back again and flung his legs over his head.  The motion created momentum and ten seconds later Robin was standing up again, wondering why the sky was on fire.  

            The pile of limbs below him moved slightly, the imaginary flames receded and Robin realized that his window of opportunity was swiftly closing.  Quickly transferring the Bat-pick from under his tongue to his teeth, he raised his right arm – the left painfully swinging like a pendulum – and began working on the cuffs.  It took him several seconds longer than he had anticipated and he mentally yelled at his body to move faster.  He finally heard the ‘click’ of the clasp dropping open and his right hand was suddenly free.  Using the Bat-pick with his hand instead of his teeth made releasing the left wrist much easier.  Grinning slightly in pride, Robin bent over and tucked the handcuffs into his left boot.  They were sharp against his skin but it was better to be prepared for…something, although he had no idea what that something could be.          

            There were only two ways to go: the shack or the ocean.  Robin chose the ocean because the shack would be too obvious.  Maybe there was a small cave he could hide in, or maybe he would get really lucky and find a boat that was undamaged enough to float.  The moon was his only good source of light now and it was playing hide and seek with him, flitting from cloud to cloud of the dissipating storm.  Hopefully, the fluffs of gray would disappear soon so he wouldn’t kill himself trying to escape.

            Turning to his left, Robin started stumbling down the rocky hill that led to the tiny beach.  He was having a lot of perception problems and was scraping his legs open as he dropped to his knees over and over.  After going about a quarter of the way down the steep hill he took one misstep too many, his burning ribs slammed into a boulder and he dropped onto his back.  Now he had a big problem – his body refused to move.  All he could do was look up at the sky, attempt to control his breathing and fight against the large swirls of darkness that were threatening to overtake his mind.  

* * *

            Joker woke up slowly with pain radiating from the hole in his stomach.  Grabbing the handle of his knife, he yanked it out while laughing loudly.  The sound was cut short, however, when the injury began throbbing.  Trying to giggle instead of whine, Joker somehow slipped his jacket off his body and wrapped it tightly around the bloody wound.

            “You think that stabbing me is going to stop me?!” Joker yelled angrily, although his voice was laced with pain.  “You’re an idiot, little sidekick!” he continued as he pressed his left hand against the wall of the lighthouse and shakily stood up.

_I should have left the light intact._   It was going to be much harder to find the boy.  He hadn’t anticipated the effects of the light clouds that were sliding across the night sky.  The villain heard a noise over in the rocks that led to the ocean so he took a step in that direction.  He snarled – the baby bird was going to be begging for mercy for _several_ days as opposed to the one day that the villain had originally planned.  Batman’s sidekick was going to regret being born when Joker was through with him.

* * *

            Robin was rapidly losing the battle; darkness had conquered almost every part of his brain.  A recognizable voice was screaming – a sound that Robin wished was anything but familiar.  Joker was already awake again and a bullet of fear shot through the teenager, quickly awakening his senses.  He _had_ to get away; he wasn’t going to die at a stupid lighthouse after only one fight in his two weeks of being a crime-fighter!  So, he pushed himself up to his knees and started crawling over the rocks, his left arm dangling uselessly and painfully by his side.  The moon suddenly decided to stay behind a thin cloud, bathing the area in a pale, misty light. 

            _Idiot_!  Robin screamed the word at himself in his mind at the same time that Joker yelled it at him.  The Jokermobile!  If he could just get to the Jokermobile, maybe he could call for help.  Robin had glimpsed a phone but also knew that Joker carried around a lot of toys.  Hopefully, the phone wasn’t one of them.  Changing directions, he began crawling back up the hill and was startled to find that the rocks had somehow grown bigger.

            For some reason, pebbles were showering down on him and suddenly Robin was covered by a shadow.  Lifting his head, the boy was dismayed to see Joker standing above him, at the top of the hill with the knife glinting through the darkness.  He watched the villain’s mouth twist into an evil grin and his blue eyes widened in alarm when the man took a step over the first rock in his path.


	11. Chapter 11

            Joker grinned.  The kid was obviously stuck and one of his arms was hanging at a funny angle.  The villain decided to give the little sidekick a taste of his own medicine before playing with him.  A knife in the gut, a painful ride over sharp boulders and then back up to the top of the lighthouse and onto a bed of glass shards.  A short wave of dizziness assaulted him as he took a step over a small boulder and his body swayed slightly to the left.  The small change in direction was enough to send Joker’s foot onto the side of a slippery rock instead of the solid ground it was expecting.  It slid away from him and he began tumbling down the hill, surprise and fear on his face as he bounced off the small body of Batman’s sidekick.  It was his turn to slam ribs-first into a rock and he lay draped over the top of a large one halfway down the slope, gasping for air.  The bloody knife clattered down the hill, jumped off a tall boulder and was swept away into the ocean.

* * *

            Robin stared at the scene in shock: Joker was falling straight toward him and he had nowhere to go!  The villain’s body bounced off his upper back, knocking the wind out of him and slamming his torso against the rough ground.  Now his left arm wasn’t the only thing on fire – his entire ribcage had decided to dance around in the flames.  A ‘thud’ and a gasp of pain drifted up from behind him and Robin rolled onto his back.

            _Don’t do it, it’s a waste of precious time!  But if it works time won’t be as important.  How are you going to do it with a **broken arm**?!  Just leave!_

            Ignoring himself, Robin lifted his head so he could see the villain.  Joker was several yards down the hill, moaning in pain and not moving at all.  _Don’t do it!_   He continued to scream at himself even as he placed his right hand on the rock directly above his head.  With as much energy as he could muster, the teenager shoved off, causing a cascade of pebbles and dirt that carried his throbbing body toward the man’s legs.

            Joker was trying to push himself off the rock and Robin had about twenty seconds before he would be back in the nearly inescapable arms of the psychotic clown.  Grabbing the villain’s handcuffs out of his boot with his right hand, the teen flipped one side around Joker’s right ankle and snapped it shut.  The man’s torso was off the rock now and his left leg began pulling away.  It was too slow; Robin had already whipped the other cuff around and both the man and the boy heard the ‘click’ of a pair of handcuffs securely tightened around a pair of ankles.   

            It was Joker who was screaming in frustration this time and Robin turned his focus back up the hill.  With his breathing coming in short gasps and his left arm feeling like it had shattered into a million pieces, the young hero continued his climb, willing his body to move faster.

* * *

            The wind had been knocked out of him but Joker was not going to allow a stupid _sidekick_ to escape.  Pushing his hands against the sides of the boulder upon which he was currently resting, he started to raise his throbbing torso off the rock.  There was a painful ‘snap’ around his right ankle and he recognized the cold metal of a cuff.  The kid was using his own handcuffs against him!  Joker had never felt this kind of fury; it was dangerous and empowering and he felt like bursting into flames of rage.  He started moving his left leg away from the boy but he was too slow and he heard and felt the distinctive ‘click’ of the other cuff. 

            Screaming in frustration, he began turning his body around, ready to grab the sidekick before he could travel up the incline.  His eyes widened in shock – the kid was already almost gone!  One small foot was being dragged over the last rock and the villain growled.  Using only his hands and the strength of his arms, Joker began snaking up the hillside, irritated with the time he was wasting.  It would be faster if he could also push off his knees but the irregularly placed boulders made it impossible for him to determine where he should put them without breaking his kneecaps or tearing his tendons.  Then he _really_ wouldn’t be able to catch the kid so he resigned himself to the slow pace.  The boy was extremely injured; he wouldn’t get too far away.

* * *

            He had never anticipated being happy to see the Jokermobile but Robin was ecstatic when it finally came into view.  Pushing himself up onto wobbly legs, he stumbled over to the vehicle and pulled the passenger door open.  Closing his eyes with hope, he picked up the phone and held it to his ear.  Nothing.  It was a fake and he dropped it in disappointment.

            Carefully climbing out of the Jokermobile, Robin turned his attention to the shack.  He had been so scared the first time they were here that he hadn’t been able to fully take in his surroundings.  A lighthouse keeper would need a phone, right?  Wearily, he pushed his body in the direction of the small building and leaned against the frame of the open door when he arrived.  There was a wall extension right next to the chair he had been sitting on but it was hanging down, away from the wires.  There was no need to go over and investigate; it was immediately obvious that the phone wasn’t going to work.

            Sighing, he tried to think of some other way to escape.  Joker had disabled the light, there were no working phones and the villain was probably nearing the top of the hill by now.  There was only one way to go: west, through the dense forest and toward Gotham City.  The moon was still frolicking from cloud to cloud and it would be very difficult to navigate the sea of trees.  The only thing that gave him a smidgen of hope was the fact that the playful moon was also Joker’s only source of light.

            Robin’s vision suddenly blurred and the pounding in his head increased in intensity.  He tried to shake the pain away but that made it worse and now he was falling.  His right arm flailed out, trying desperately to grab onto something, but his hand only caught air.  The blurring abruptly gave way to holes of blackness and Robin knew if he hit the ground he wouldn’t be able to get back up.  His last thought was about pain.  It wasn’t his favorite decision but he did it anyway, reluctantly twisting his body left as he continued to fall.  The next thing he felt was a broken arm connecting with an unyielding patch of earth.  The agonizing pain woke him up and ripped a rasping cry of anguish from his scratchy throat.  Adrenaline rushed through him again and he forced himself to stand up.  Tripping over himself several times, Robin slowly staggered toward the safety of the shadows in the forest.

* * *

            A scream of agony came from the boy and Joker grinned through the pain wracking his upper body.  He attempted to force himself to move faster but his arms were exhausted and he still had four rows of rocks to traverse before he could even think about dragging his lower body over the top.  The sidekick, however, was probably unconscious by now.  That scream had been excellent evidence of suffering that only _Batman_ would be able to endure.

            There was a slim ray of light shining over the eastern horizon by the time Joker began pulling himself over the last rock.  Glancing around, he saw no evidence of a small body but there were several things restricting his view: his Jokermobile, the shack and maybe even the lighthouse itself, if the boy had been stupid enough to return to that building.  He had been with the sidekick long enough to have to admit that the kid was smart, though, so Joker ignored the lighthouse and chose to crawl away from the edge of the hill.

            It would be idiotic to try to stand up near the rim in his state; he would probably crash right back down.  After going about ten feet, Joker slowly wriggled his ankles forward until his knees were against his chest then carefully stood up.  He was unsteady, his stomach was burning, his vision was blurry and his ankles were bleeding from the tightness of the cuffs.  The boy was going to pay a heavy – _very_ heavy – price for everything he had done.  _He’s not as weak as I thought he was but he’s still not strong enough to beat me._   And the villain began to shuffle his way toward the Jokermobile.   

* * *

            Robin was almost half a mile into the forest when a tiny sliver of light from behind him signaled the approaching of dawn.  It would be so much easier for Joker to find him in the early morning sunlight but he couldn’t go any faster than he already was, which was not very fast at all.  He continued to stumble through the trees, attempting to hold his left arm stationary.  That was impossible, though, because there were lots of large roots, prickly bushes and feathery weeds to trip over.  He had to keep catching himself with his right hand, leaving his left arm feeling like a swinging rope of fire.  Suddenly, his left leg wouldn’t move and he panicked.  Glancing back, he saw his left boot stuck between two big roots of a tall tree and his panic grew.  Joker was coming, Robin knew he was, so he pulled and jerked and tugged until his foot finally slid out of the green death trap.  The motion threw him forward and he automatically tucked into a forward roll.  The momentum popped him up to his feet and, gasping for air again, he painfully continued on his way.

            The young crime-fighter suddenly heard a very familiar sound, although it was unusually quiet.  He didn’t allow himself to hope, though, because Batman probably thought he was dead and had stopped looking for him.  He turned toward the road anyway and made it to the edge of the forest just in time to see the Batmobile fading east toward the lighthouse.

            “Holy misfortune,” Robin muttered.  Laughing softly at the peculiar combination of words, and wondering how he had come up with it, the thirteen-year-old hero stepped onto the bumpy road and began trudging east.  He knew he wouldn’t be able to catch up with the Batmobile, but maybe Batman would stay at the lighthouse long enough for his sidekick to get there.

* * *

            Batman narrowed his eyes in recognition when the road became rocky and he stared angrily into the gray darkness of the fading night.  There it was – the abandoned lighthouse where this entire thing had started.  _If Robin is dead…_ he quickly amended the thought… _When I find Robin, **Joker** will be the one begging for mercy.  _

            The Jokermobile was parked fairly close to the shack so Batman parked directly behind it, blocking a quick exit, and slid quietly out of the Batmobile.  There was no sign of anybody so he quickly circled the ridiculous car while peering carefully inside.  He noticed blood on both the backseat and the floor but not enough to be alarming.  A portion of Robin’s easily recognizable cape was on the floor, hooked around the front seat, and Batman saw an image of Robin choking to death.  Shaking his head to get rid of that picture, he finished circling the Jokermobile then folded his arms across his chest and stared at the open door of the shack.  Was he walking into a trap?  He decided that he didn’t care if it was a trap.  He was going in after Robin so he strode quickly to the door and entered.  

            A soft ray of the rising sun flowed through the front room, which looked the same as it had when Batman had left it two days ago: the chair was in the same place, the table right next to it, the broken pieces of wood still scattered around the room and the rope on the floor where he had dropped it after examining it for blood.  He frowned and stalked toward the only other room, which he assumed to be a bedroom.  Shoving the door open and ready to tear Joker apart, Batman became frustrated when he saw nothing except a bed and a dresser covered in several layers of dust and cobwebs.

            A dreadful thought entered his mind: Joker had already killed Robin and was somewhere on the grounds, burying the tiny body.  Batman could mentally hear the villain’s maniacal laughter as he dropped Robin’s limp, and probably extremely bloody, form into a deep hole.  He was too late to save his young partner, who had trusted him and been so excited to begin his crime-fighting career.  A thirteen-year-old boy, his _ward_ , was dead because Batman had been too slow to find and follow the clues left by both Joker and Robin.

            The hero sank to his knees and dropped his head into his hands.  He had failed, utterly and completely failed.  There was a small idea wiggling around at the back of his brain but he ignored it.  Batman now had a new objective.  The chase to save Robin was over so the chase to severely punish Joker had just begun.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all who gave kudos!

** Chapter 12: **

            Joker was now shuffling carefully away from the hill, staring at the ground to keep himself from tripping over anything.  He didn’t have any other bobby pins and his fingers were bloody from the painful climb over the rocks.  Much to his chagrin, the villain’s ankles were stuck together until he could get to the tools in his Jokermobile.  The baby bird was _really_ going to pay for this.  The boy might actually turn out to be more trouble than he was worth and that was something Joker had _never_ felt about any of his captives. 

            “Robin,” the villain growled under his breath and discovered that the sound of the word was nauseating.  It began thumping rhythmically in his brain as his shuffling became sluggish.  The progress he was making decreased significantly and he wanted to lie down and go to sleep.  _Robin_ , however, was out here somewhere and Joker was not about to give up.  He was pretty sure that the kid was still scared of him so the madman pushed all the pain to the back of his mind, lifted his eyes to the sky and screamed to the little sidekick:

            “Robbiiieee, oh Robbie-boy.  Come out, come out and we’ll have some fun!”

* * *

            Batman immediately identified the screeching sound and was furious with both Joker and himself.  The little thought that had been circling the edges of his brain found its way to the front and he started yelling at himself in his head.  How could he have been so stupid?!  The lighthouse itself, of course!

            Raising his head and jumping to his feet, Batman clenched his hands into tight fists and raced toward the front door of the small shack.  The bedroom had been dark and gloomy so the bright light from the early morning sun momentarily disoriented the hero.  He stumbled over the upright chair and fell to the floor.  The pain in his right rib flared up but Batman had neither the time nor the desire to do anything about it.  Pushing himself up off the floor, he sprinted out of the shack.

            There was a slight grin on the hero’s face as he ran – Joker had lost his prey.  Robin was still alive and had somehow managed to escape from the crazy clown.  Batman was stunned when he saw the state of the psychotic man: he was bleeding from both his head and his torso, swaying on his feet and, for some reason, _shuffling_ his way toward the shack.  Instantly recognizing the opportunity, the veteran crime-fighter flew at the villain and tackled him.  Joker weakly attempted to fight back but Batman had several advantages – surprise, strength and fury at the man he was battling.

            The fight was short and the insane trickster was soon unconscious on the uneven ground.  The hero pulled a pair of Bat-cuffs out of his utility belt and was surprised to see handcuffs already circling the man’s ankles.  Staring briefly at the bloody jacket around Joker’s midsection, Batman wondered how all of this had happened.  He had to find Robin before he could hear the story, though, so he roughly flipped the villain onto his stomach.  Shoving the man’s arms together behind his back, Batman slapped the Bat-cuffs on Joker’s wrists and secured them tightly.  Immediately changing his focus, he yelled Robin’s name but heard nothing other than the ocean waves splashing against the rocks.

* * *

            It seemed like he had been walking for days.  Robin thought he heard his name but chose to concentrate on putting one weary foot in front of the other.  The sound floated away toward the ocean and the teen concluded that he had imagined the noise.  Batman wouldn’t find him at the lighthouse and would probably decide that chasing after his sidekick was a lost cause.  Eventually the Batmobile would come flying down this road again.  Was this the only road from the lighthouse?  Robin changed the thought.  _Maybe_ the Batmobile would come flying down this road again.

            “Right.  Left.  Right.  Left.  Light.  Feft.  Bite.  Jet.”  The young hero was mumbling to himself while attempting to focus on the road.  Was feft a word?  Why was he suddenly hungry?  Which one was his right foot?  Robin’s vision was swimming again and he couldn’t remember what he was supposed to be doing.  He dropped to his knees but knew he needed to be somewhere so he started crawling, wondering why his left arm refused to help.

* * *

            “Robin!” Batman yelled again but there was still no answer.  He began picking his way down the hill, carefully looking for a small body or any other sign of his partner while stepping on and around boulders.  There it was, his first clue: a patch of red glistening on a large boulder with a little puddle underneath it.  Batman glanced around and saw a splash of red that resembled a small handprint on a rock immediately to his right.  Turning west, he started to follow a wide line of crimson and was surprised when it stopped a few feet from where it had started.  There was another bloody handprint on the rock directly above him and Batman realized that Robin had begun climbing back _up_ the hill. 

            The hero returned to the parked vehicles.  There were no movements coming from anywhere around the two cars and nothing happening by the shack, either.  Where would a smart, determined and wounded young crime-fighter go to escape the grasp of a villain as volatile and, Batman had to admit, intelligent as Joker?  He circled the vehicles once then slowly walked toward the shack again, this time staring at the ground.  The bright rays of the sun sparkled down a thin line of liquid in the dirt off to his left.  Batman crouched, easily identified it and stood up – the forest was on his left.

            Robin had to be tired and there were so many ways to be knocked out in a forest.  Batman began striding through the trees, glancing around for any clues that might lead him to his partner.  He noticed what looked like an unintentional path: there were some trampled weeds, a bent branch here and there and, finally, a small green boot stuck between the large roots of an old oak tree. 

            “Robin!” he roared as loud as he could, his eyes carefully searching the surrounding area.  But the only sound was the whispering of the wind as it rustled through the leaves of the trees.

* * *

            Robin finally made it to what he assumed to be his destination.  He recognized the Batmobile and heard a loud noise but his brain couldn’t process what the sound meant.  Batman was usually in the Batmobile, Robin faintly recalled that fact, so he crawled over to the passenger side.  Slowly and painfully, he opened the door, climbed in and curled up against the seat on his left side.  The pressure increased the burning feeling in his left arm but he was too tired to care.  Batman would eventually come back so Robin blissfully fell into darkness.

* * *

            Batman had gone from the eastern side of the forest all the way to the western side, almost a mile away.  The last clue, the very last thing Robin could take off to inform Batman of his whereabouts, was the left boot that had been near the middle of the forest.  The older hero strode back through the trees to where he had found the boot.  He looked north and south; maybe Robin had changed directions.  A quick thought flew through his mind: his young partner was _smart_ , he would go toward the road and try to find help.  Batman raced south and was not surprised to see a small circle of blood at the edge of the forest, right by the dirt of the road.  He _was_ surprised, however, when the trail headed east instead of west.  Maybe Robin had lost his sense of direction in the density of the trees and was unwittingly walking back toward the formerly wide-open arms of the Clown Prince of Crime.  Whatever the reason, Robin’s trail was going east and Batman sprinted down the road.  He glimpsed a small, red pool but kept running – the trail continued so whatever had caused the puddle was not important enough to stop his strong partner from reaching his destination.

            The Batmobile came into view and Batman followed the unbroken line of crimson to the passenger side.  Upon his arrival, he found the door open and saw his young partner unconscious on the seat.  At least, he hoped Robin was merely unconscious.  The boy was rather bloody and his left arm, what Batman could see of it, appeared to be broken.

            “Robin,” Batman said loudly, gently shaking his partner’s seemingly uninjured right shoulder.  He was startled when Robin’s eyes flew open and his small body attempted to roll over its right shoulder, toward the open door.  Batman immediately had his arms ready to catch his partner and Robin started to tremble when he felt something holding his body immobile.

            “Robin, it’s just me,” Batman stated, his voice a little quieter as he carefully placed the quivering form back on the seat of the Batmobile.  The familiar voice instantly halted the trembling and Robin relaxed his tense muscles.  Batman saw the knife wounds around his partner’s torso, the shallow slice in his left side and the two long cuts covered by tape on his arms.  He tore off his black cape and ripped off two lengthy strips then used the rest to wrap the tiny midsection.  Turning his attention to Robin’s face, Batman was relieved to see only a few faint clouds drifting around in the tired circles of blue that were staring up at him.

            “You didn’t forget about me,” Robin suddenly whispered.

            Batman shook his head, surprised that his ward would even think of something like that.  “I would _never_ forget about you, Robin!” he exclaimed softly.  “Why would you…”

            “But you’re used to working alone,” Robin interrupted, continuing to whisper. “He said you wouldn’t care if I was gone; that I wasn’t worth the trouble.”

            Batman saw the doubt flitting around the edges of his young partner’s eyes.  He glanced back toward Joker and growled furiously.  Robin flinched at the sound and Batman quickly turned back to look at him.

            “I don’t work alone anymore, Robin,” Batman assured his partner.  “And I will _always_ come for you, no matter what.  Don’t ever give up on me and I will never give up on you.  Understand?  I will _always_ come for you.”  Batman’s voice was commanding now and it had risen slightly as he tried to convey the importance of the implied promise.

            Robin acknowledged his understanding with a tiny nod and then abruptly changed the subject.  “Did you think I was dead?”  The clouds had floated away and the younger hero’s eyes were wide as he stared up at the older hero’s face.  He wanted to know if Joker had actually been able to fool _Batman_.

            “I thought it was a possibility for about ten seconds,” Batman replied.  “Then I found your message.”

            Robin grinned slightly, “I, uh, understand now why there is a list of not-yet villains.  I still don’t _like_ it, but I understand it.” 

            Batman’s grin matched the one on his partner’s face, “Good, I’m glad you understand.  Do you remember what happened?  I found a bloody villain shuffling his way toward the Jokermobile when I arrived.” 

            There was a long pause and Batman gave his partner time to think.  “I knocked him out, stabbed him when he woke up, knocked him out again and turned into a springboard to help him slam into a boulder.  I’m pretty sure that’s how it happened,” Robin replied.  The pause was shorter this time, “Oh, yeah, and I used his handcuffs on his ankles.  I think that’s it.”

            Batman’s jaw dropped in disbelief.  “You…stabbed him?!  How…”

            “Can we talk about this later?” Robin interrupted quietly, a touch of fear woven through the words.  Batman was gently tugging on the tape covering the slice on Robin’s right arm.  The pain was intense and Robin whispered, “Maybe you can find something to distract me from what’s about to happen?”

            Batman nodded and there was a brief moment of silence.  “Your first week of crime-fighting is almost over.  Today is your fifth day,” Batman stated as he finished removing the tape.  Blood was now trickling steadily out of Robin’s right arm and Batman quickly wrapped one of the strips from his cape around the wound.

            “It’s only been five days?!” Robin exclaimed.  “Are you sure?  It feels like it’s been at least two weeks!”

            Batman immediately stopped working on Robin’s left arm.  “I’m absolutely sure, Robin, because the last two and a half have been the longest days of my life.  Day one we fought a mob,” he began ticking off the days on his fingers, “then day two was Joker’s bomb and your capture.  The third day I received a video from a lighthouse shack followed by a video from a burned-out building on the third night.”

            “Yeah, I’m hungry,” Robin grumbled as he remembered Joker’s chicken and the crushed, juicy broccoli.

            Batman pulled a Bat-bar out of the glove box of the Batmobile, tore it open and Robin took a small bite.  “The fourth day I received a video from a warehouse,” the older crime-fighter continued, “and discovered a bloody outline of your body when I checked the place out.  I also began to follow some clues left by a very smart young crime-fighter and now, here we are, on the beginning of your fifth day.” 

            “Well, I’m not really a very smart crime-fighter,” it was Robin’s turn to use the fingers on his right hand.  “I didn’t stay in the Batmobile, I cried like a baby, I threw my utility belt – my greatest chance to escape – out the window of the Jokermobile and broke my own arm!”

            “But,” Batman countered as he started gently pulling on the tape on his partner’s left arm again, “the only reason I am here is because you found a way to leave me a trail.  The first time I had to choose which road to follow, I was about to go the wrong way.  If your utility belt hadn’t been glistening in the fading sunlight, it would be Joker standing here talking to you instead of me.”

            Robin shuddered at the sound of the villain’s name.  “Where, um, where is he?” the boy asked quietly, trepidation evident in his soft tone.  The slice on his left arm was wrapped now and both arms were throbbing.  The fabric of the cape felt better than the stickiness of the tape, though, and Robin decided he could handle the pulsating pain radiating from his right arm.  The left, however, was another matter.  It was still burning and the throbbing turned it into continuously trembling bursts of fire. 

            Batman’s head suddenly became a blurry red snake and Robin watched a sea of darkness rush toward, and then over, the wriggling creature.  He dove into the waves in an effort to save the small snake but was pulled under and everything faded to black.

            Flicking his head toward the lighthouse, Batman answered Robin’s question, “Over there and completely secured.”  The reply hadn’t been quick enough; his partner had drifted away.  Reaching across the motionless form, Batman grabbed the Batmobile’s Batphone extension.

            “Batman?” Commissioner Gordon was quick to pick up the phone.

            Before the commissioner could begin asking questions, Batman gave the short version of the story.  “Robin is still alive, we are at the abandoned lighthouse again and Joker is knocked out and in Bat-cuffs.  I need to take Robin back to the Batcave as soon as possible so I’m going to tie Joker up and put him in the keeper’s shack.”

            “Thank heavens, Batman!  That boy is a wonder, still alive after everything that has happened!  Tell Robin to get well soon.”  Commissioner Gordon smiled in relief as he hung up the Batphone.

            Batman grinned as he looked down at Robin.  “I think you’ve just earned yourself a nickname,” he whispered.  “Robin, the Boy Wonder.”

            The young hero groaned slightly as he tried to shift to a more comfortable position.  Batman reached into the glove box again, pulled out a collapsible Bat-splint and straightened it until he heard a slight ‘click’.  Carefully, he picked up the boy’s broken left arm and gently placed it on the smooth wood.  Using the Bat-rope from his utility belt, Batman secured Robin’s arm to the Bat-splint and laid it across his chest.  Now, though, he didn’t have any way to immobilize it against Robin’s body. 

            A butterfly whispered in his ear and then a painful movement woke him up.  Something slid down his side and Robin immediately recognized his utility belt.  Fumbling for it and finally grabbing it with his right hand, he held it up. 

            “Use mine,” the teen whispered groggily.  His eyes were still closed but there was a slight grin on his face.  “I like it,” he said.

            Batman waited for an explanation but, when none was forthcoming, asked for it instead.  “You like what?” he inquired.

            “Robin, the Boy Wonder.  It makes me sound,” he yawned, “amazing.”

            Shaking his head in amusement, Batman replied, “Don’t get a big head because of a nickname, Robin.”  The only response was the steady breathing of his now-sleeping partner.  Using the Bat-rope from Robin’s utility belt, Batman tied the splinted broken arm around the small torso to keep it from being jostled around on the ride to the Batcave.

            Staring down at his young ward, Batman realized that Robin had gained a lot of experience in the last four days.  Joker had unintentionally helped the boy grow stronger.  It was a painful way to learn, Batman mused as he took stock of his partner’s many injuries, but he suspected that Robin had learned some very powerful lessons. 

            “Growing pains,” Batman murmured.  He rolled his eyes at himself and was glad Robin hadn’t heard the lame remark.

            The butterfly whispered again and Robin understood the comment.  A tiny, sleepy laugh drifted up from the seat below Batman.  “Does that mean, since I’ve already taken down Joker twice and gone through the pains of growing, I can fight the other not-yet villains?”

            Batman sighed and rolled his eyes again.  “Good try, Robin, but…not yet.”


	13. Chapter 13

** Epilogue: **

**Three weeks later:**

            Big Johnny was sitting on his throne-like chair again, pleased with the results of his deal with Turino.  He was frustrated, however, with JT.  The man had been pestering him for nearly two weeks about the sidekick, whose name they now knew was Robin.  Batman had been flying solo again and Big Johnny had heard the rumors – Joker had really done a number on the boy and he needed time to heal.  Joker had failed to get rid of the kid but Big Johnny had still completed his objective so the mobster didn’t consider it a failure.  Joker would still be an excellent go-to villain and JT needed to let it go.  The mob boss was fed up; something had to be done.

            “I bet he’ll be out tonight, boss,” the man in question rudely interrupted Big Johnny’s thoughts as he walked through the large silver door.

            “JT, I don’t care if he’s ‘out tonight’,” the mob boss replied with a snarl, “because you don’t have a choice anymore.  I’m not letting you try to go after him again; I’m out of patience.  Either you find your place in this organization or the target that you put on the sidekick’s back will be on your own instead!” Big Johnny’s voice was growing louder with each sentence and the final threat was shouted at the man.

            “But Joker failed and it’s my turn!” JT yelled right back then immediately dropped his voice.  “Sorry,” he mumbled, “but I deserve a chance.”

            “Fine,” Big Johnny snapped.  “But if he’s not out tonight, you’re done with your quest for revenge.  Do you understand?!”

            “Yeah, boss,” came the man’s grumbling reply and he turned around and began stalking out the door.

            “Send Jake to me!” the mob boss commanded and the other man acknowledged the order with a short nod of his head as he continued walking away.

            Thirty seconds later Jake was strolling through the open door.  He had a slight idea of what this might be about and was ready to take care of it.

            “JT’s getting on my nerves, Jake,” Big Johnny stated.  “I told him that tonight is his last chance to take down Robin.  If the kid doesn’t come out, make sure Batman knows that JT is targeting his sidekick.  If that doesn’t work, take the matter into your own hands.”

            Jake nodded with a grin and turned around to leave.

            “Oh, and Jake?” the mob boss said, causing the man to look back at him.  “You don’t have to make it look like an accident.  I don’t want JT’s actions poisoning any of our men so you can use him as an example.”

            Jake’s grin grew wider as he replied, “Thanks for letting me know, boss.  It won’t even resemble an accident.  That guy has _always_ been on _my_ nerves.”  He nodded again and left the room.

* * *

**Later that night:**     

            “Please?!” Robin was close to begging as Batman was preparing to leave.  “I’m almost completely healed!”

            “Almost, Robin,” Batman replied, “is the key word.  Your left arm, although no longer in a cast, is not ready for action.  Give it another week and then we’ll discuss this again.”

            “Holy impossibility, Batman!” Robin cried in consternation.  “I can’t wait that long!”

            Batman chuckled at the phrase.  Robin had begun using the word ‘holy’ before every exclamation that he deemed important.  His partner was glaring at him and Batman realized that laughing was probably not the best response.

            “Four days,” the man stated as a compromise and nodded in satisfaction when Robin dropped his eyes and growled at the ground.  Batman climbed inside the Batmobile and roared off toward Police Headquarters.  The Bat-signal was on and that only happened when something big was going on – something that demanded his attention immediately.  In other words, something that a still-healing young partner wouldn’t be ready to handle.

* * *

**Thirty-five minutes later:**

            Robin was riding his bike as fast as he could.  Gotham City was fourteen miles away and the Batmobile was much faster than a thirteen-year-old on a bicycle.  He hoped the commissioner would take a long time explaining the situation because he was quickly becoming tired and his left arm was already a little sore.  The Bat-signal suddenly disappeared and Robin estimated that he had only gone about seven miles.  Dropping his head in disappointment, he stopped pedaling and coasted to a stop.  A familiar noise was rapidly approaching and Robin quickly jumped off his bike and pulled both himself and the bike off the road, pushing everything down as flat as possible.  It was dark and Batman wouldn’t be searching for him so Robin felt relatively safe as he lay in the weeds only three yards away from the edge of the road.

            The Batmobile zoomed past him on its way to the Batcave, its wheels tossing gritty dirt on the hidden boy.  Robin stood up, spitting out the sandy gravel, and tried to decide whether or not to follow.  But the Bat-signal was only turned on for something really important so maybe Batman just needed something from the Batcave.  Robin turned around and started pedaling toward Gotham City again.  Even if nothing was going to happen, at least he would know how long it would take him to get to the city on a bike.

* * *

            Batman slammed the Batmobile to a stop when he pulled into the Batcave, a little frustrated with the police department.  The Bat-phone would have worked just as well in this situation.  A deal between a mob and a gang wasn’t the type of threat that required use of the Bat-signal.  Commissioner Gordon had been worried about the possibility of an attack by Mr. Freeze, who had recently been spotted on the outskirts of the city.  But, if the man had just called him, Batman would have had the same information without wasting nearly half an hour in the Batmobile.

            The hero sighed and tried to decide whether or not to allow Robin to come with him.  It was just a group of thugs trying to trade things with each other.  Climbing out of the Batmobile, he realized that he didn’t have to make that decision because Robin was nowhere to be seen.  He must have gone up to the Manor to sulk for a while before going to bed.  Batman strode to the changing area and switched from his regular Bat-suit into his thermal, anti-freeze one.  Better to be prepared than surprised.  After his quick change, Batman climbed back into the Batmobile and took off, heading for the very edge of Gotham City that was only thirteen miles away.

* * *

**Present time:**          

            The warehouse was small and square with only a few good hiding places.  JT was the one dealing with the five-man gang, out in the open and exchanging the guns for the money.  Jake watched from the shadows, his own gun tucked into the band of his pants behind his back.  He wouldn’t need it – he could easily take down the bigger man.  JT was powerful but sloppy and Jake hadn’t been surprised that a _sidekick_ had been able to knock him out so quickly.

            There was a loud, familiar sound and the easily-spooked small gang scampered out the back door.  JT retreated behind a pillar of cement and clenched his fists.  The kid had to be here; it had been almost a month!  He was disappointed, however, when Batman strode into the room alone.  How long does it take for a young body to heal?!  JT’s only experiences with pain were headaches, injuries from fights and wounds from different types of weapons.  He had never broken a bone so he had no idea of the length of time it needed to completely heal.

* * *

            Robin was almost there; he could see the lights and make out the tall buildings.  His tired legs were trembling, his breathing was erratic and the pain in his left arm was more than just an ache.  But…he was almost there.

            The familiar roar was back and Robin repeated his earlier actions, hoping that Batman had assumed that his ward was up in the Manor.  The Batmobile pulled to a stop in front of a small warehouse that was only twenty yards away and Robin grinned in relief.  He watched Batman enter the front door of the building so he quietly rode around to the back.  Five young guys were running out the back door and Robin slipped inside before it closed.  His left arm was throbbing now but he was tired of sitting around doing nothing when he should be out fighting crime.

            Everything was quiet as two men and one young boy watched Batman turn in a slow circle, searching the entire room with his eyes.  Robin realized he was directly behind the man he had tackled in his very first fight.  There was another man in the shadows on the other side of the room.  He was shorter but built like a fireplug and Robin knew he would be much harder to take down.  Suddenly, the man in front of him stepped into the light.

            “Where’s the boy?” JT snarled.  “Is he too scared to come out?  Did you decide he’s not good enough to be your sidekick?”

            From the darkness behind him came a quiet noise, almost like a growl, and JT whipped his head around.  The sound was so soft that even Batman hadn’t heard it but the hero quickly regained the man’s attention when he began speaking.

            “My _partner’s_ name is Robin and he is healing.  Don’t worry, he will be returning soon,” Batman replied calmly.  His tone, however, was laced with anger and a minute, undetected amount of confusion.  Why was this man targeting Robin?

            Jake decided to take the lead so he, too, stepped from the shadows.  JT glared over at him; this was his fight and it had nothing to do with the guy who considered himself Big Johnny’s right hand man.

            “Robin took him out and hurt his pride,” Jake shrugged indifferently.  “He’s looking for revenge.”  Turning around, Jake walked toward the back door, leaving a shocked JT to deal with the wrath that he knew would be coming from Batman.  His eyes widened in surprise when he noticed Robin, but he just grinned at the kid as he passed and strode out the door.

            “Revenge?” Batman stated, his voice still calm but on its way to fury.  “I suppose that makes sense.  You _were_ taken out by a thirteen-year-old.  And it _was_ only his first night on the job.”

            It was Robin’s turn to grin and he raced from the shadows, tackling JT just like he had before.  The big man went down and Robin jumped straight up in the air, kicking the guy in the head.  It was the same move, in the same order, but this time Robin landed hard on his left side and a burst of fire flew up his arm.  Small sparks of light gently exploded in his mind and he didn’t jump back up.  Suddenly, JT was looming over him with a smug smile plastered on his face.  Pushing the pain away, Robin quickly rolled onto his back and thrust his legs up, slamming both feet into the chest of the criminal.  There was an audible ‘crack’ and the man stumbled back, clutching his ribs and attempting to catch his breath.  The wall was close and JT hit it hard, his eyes closing as his body went limp and slid down the length of the wall.

            “I told you to stay home,” Batman growled with a hint of pride sneaking through the words.  “Now you have to wait for that arm to heal again.”

            Robin was cradling his left arm as he pushed himself up to his feet and shrugged.  “He wanted revenge on me so it was worth it.”  The young crime-fighter grinned as he walked toward his partner.

            Batman shook his head and went to secure JT while Robin strolled out the front door and climbed into the Batmobile.  This time it was the Boy Wonder who removed the collapsible Bat-splint from the glovebox and secured his arm to it using the Bat-rope from his utility belt.

            “By the way,” he stated as Batman sat down and started the engine, “my bike is in the back.  Unless it was stolen by one of the gang members.”

            The Batmobile circled the warehouse but the bike was gone, just as Robin had suspected.  He shrugged again as they headed toward the Batcave.  That bike had a lot of miles on it anyway.

* * *

            “JT is taken care of, boss,” Jake declared as he joined the large man in the throne room.  “Batman appeared to be solo again but Robin was waiting in the shadows.  I mentioned that JT wanted revenge on the boy and Batman didn’t look too happy about that.  I don’t know who took the idiot down but I did stay long enough to see him in the back of a GCPD cruiser.”

            Big Johnny grinned but also grimaced slightly.  JT was gone but the sidekick was good.  Robin could become a problem, although not as big of one as Batman, but right now he didn’t have to worry about it.  The duo had rid his mob of an irritating, dim-witted fool and Big Johnny basked in the glow of complete control.

* * *

            “Only one more, I promise,” Robin stated on the drive back to the Batcave.  Batman rolled his eyes; the boy had been asking questions and making comments about everything hero-related since they had left the warehouse.  Many of them were things Batman had already heard at least twice in the last three weeks. 

            “Okay, but this is absolutely the last one,” Batman replied.

            “Do crime-fighters harass their kidnappers?  You know, taunt them and shoot sarcastic remarks at them?”

            Batman raised his eyebrows and glanced at Robin.  _That’s a new one._  

            “Well, I suppose it depends on the situation.  If you already have a solid plan to escape, something like that could distract your captor and give you an advantage.”  Batman grinned slightly in the darkness, glad that Robin couldn’t see his expression.  “If, however, you are lying injured and bloody on a cement floor with no plan, you should probably keep those thoughts to yourself.  Especially if you can’t think of anything good to say and the person who kidnapped you gets his feelings hurt easily.” 

            Robin rolled his eyes and grumbled, “Holy hostage, Batman, it was my first time!  I have better stuff planned for future kidnappings and I won’t forget them!”

            “I have a more effective idea,” Batman countered.  “Don’t get kidnapped.”

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and I hoped you liked it! :)


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